


This Time of Darkness

by TheKnittingLady



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Eating Disorders, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 76
Words: 103,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnittingLady/pseuds/TheKnittingLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the hardest, most wonderful things in your life are the things you can't remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1
> 
> Fate, or some mysterious force, can put the finger on you or me, for no good reason at all.  
> \- Martin Goldsmith

**Chapter 01**

**Gulfstream G-IV**  
Tail # N4SP  
Westbound over Lake Michigan  
Day #1

**Rossi**

They were flying over Lake Michigan the first time it happened.

It wasn't an exciting flight at first. They were heading to Green Bay, Wisconsin, of all places, where it appeared that they had an odd kind of cannibal to deal with. Cannibals were no one's idea of fun, except perhaps Reid, who found fascination in just about anything.

As they started over the lake, the pilot reported an odd fog bank ahead. Hotch headed up front to take a look. He saw that it was a wall of fog, high as they could see, all the way down to the lake, stretching along the length of the lake. They said there was no way to fly around but it shouldn't be a problem to fly through, so fly through they did.

"This is creepy." JJ commented as the fog rendered their windows useless.

"You've heard about the Michigan Triangle?" Reid was suddenly excited.

"The Michigan Triangle?"

"Yeah, it's similar to the better known Bermuda Triangle, a place where time is reputed to slow down or speed up, and people, planes and boats can disappear without a trace."

"No, Reid, I hadn't heard of it before." JJ said, patiently. "I was just referring to the fog."

"Oh. I was wondering because an inexplicably dense fog is usually the first phenomenon reported."

"Thanks."

Rossi looked over at Morgan. "Can you stop him?"

"I've been trying for years." Morgan replied.

All of a sudden the plane shuddered like they hit turbulence. As Hotch moved to sit and the rest of them buckled up the plane shook again. And it got cold, absolutely frigid. "What the…?" Morgan asked, his breath making curls in the air.

Then the lights went out.

The plane shook.

"Everyone stay calm!" Hotch said.

The plane shook.

The lights came back on.

The air turned warm again.

The flight leveled out.

The sunlight sparkled in the windows as the fog melted away.

It was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 02**

**Gulfstream G-IV  
Tail # N4SP  
Eastbound over Lake Michigan  
Day #4**

**Rossi**

Three days later they headed back to DC. "I wonder if we're going to hit fog again." JJ said as they neared the coastline.

"It's not uncommon for this time of year." Rossi replied.

Rossi really wasn't paying that much attention. He was trying to finish looking over his book galleys so he could get some hunting in this week-end. He was only vaguely aware of Hotch trying to finish the reports so he could spend more time with Jack over the week-end, and probably a night with Beth if all went well, of JJ snuggling down for a nap, of Reid and Emily in the galley making tea, of Morgan gazing out the window, listening to music. He wasn't aware of much of anything, this being the one truly safe place where they could be not-aware for a while.

Until the bottom dropped out of the world.

Books, papers, cups, anything not tied down went flying as the turbulence hit them hard. The plane bucked in the air, throwing Emily against the bulkhead and Reid to the floor. "Try to belt in!" He yelled at them.

Then the lights flickered.

The air turned frigid. Ice started growing over the inside of the windows.

The plane bucked again.

Emily and Reid were trying to get to their feet.

The plane shook hard.

The lights went out.

They came back.

Emily and Reid were gone.

Emily and Reid were  _gone_.

"What the hell?" He asked.

"What?" Hotch asked. Everyone else's back was to that end of the plane.

"Emily and Reid are gone."

"What?" He craned his head to look.

The plane bucked again and again.

The lights went out.

Came on.

"That's not possible!" Morgan insisted.

"I know." Rossi replied.

Went out.

The plane shook.

Came on.

Emily and Reid were lying there in a heap.

Rossi chuckled. "They must have rolled under the table." Of course, right?

"Buckle in!" Hotch yelled at them.

Went out.

Came on.

The air warmed again. The ice on the windows retreated.

Reid climbed into a seat, physically pulling Emily after him, pushing her into the seat across from him. Reid's hands shook as he buckled in, his eyes wide and staring.

The plane shook.

Then it quieted.

The lights stayed on.

"You two okay?" Hotch asked them

"Yeah, we're fine." Emily said as Reid nodded.

The stars sparkled outside the window.

They had a smooth flight the rest of the way home.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2
> 
> Understanding can overcome any situation, however mysterious or insurmountable it may appear to be.  
> \- Norman Vincent Peale

**Chapter 03**

**BAU headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**   
**Day #4**

**Emily**

"Hey." Garcia said to Emily as she came out of the locker room, "Heard you had a rough flight."

"Yeah, we did." Emily had stopped to wash her face, change into something a little more comfortable for the drive home. No, she thought, be honest, you were trying to shake it off.

"Scary."

"It was just some turbulence."

"Yeah, but still, scary. Kind of scarier than scary, know what I mean?'

"No." Great, now Garcia was talking in riddles.

"I mean work. You know, Unsubs have followed us home before. We even had one  _here_  that one time. The only safe place you all really have is on that plane. When that gets scary it can be, you know, really scary. So I just wanted to be sure you were okay."

Oh. She had a good point. "Yeah, I think I'm okay." Should she…? No, it was too weird.

"You think?"

"I don't know. I may have hit my head or something." Garcia immediately leaned in with concern. "No, no, come on. I'm fine now. I just…my time sense feels really off. It feels like I lost time somewhere."

"Like how much time?"

"I don't know, weeks? A month maybe? It's just…weird, I don't know. Where's Reid?" All of a sudden she simply  _had_  to know.

"Over at his desk. You know, if you start getting a headache or anything you call me…."

"And we'll go to the hospital and get it checked out, yes mom." Thankfully she just had to go around the corner to see the bullpen, and sure enough there was Reid, working at his desk. Good. "Did we have plans this week-end?" She was still feeling like she missed out on something.

"You mean like Henry's birthday party on Sunday?"

"That would be it, thank you." Gah, she just could not shake this feeling. "Maybe I'm coming down with something. I think I'm going to go home and try to sleep it off."

"Okay. You call me if you need anything, yes?" Garcia was still giving off waves of concern.

"I will, I promise. See you Sunday." Emily headed back to her desk to gather her things. As she went she watched Reid. He wasn't actually working, as it turned out. His head was bent over the desk, but he wasn't actually writing anything. Instead he was more or less staring off into space, not at all here. "Reid?" No answer. "Reid?" She moved to touch his shoulder but….

_Don't touch them. They don't take it well._

"Reid?"

Finally he turned, blinking at her, "Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm, um, I'm fine."

Lying in a nest of profilers was never a good idea. He was pale and clearly confused; his eyes too restless. "You sure about that?"

"Um, yeah. No. I don't know. I might be coming down with something. I should probably just head home." He started gathering up his things.

"Yeah, get some rest. You don't want to miss the birthday party."

Reid smiled; a smile that was almost too bright. "No, I don't. I'll see you Sunday."

"Yeah. Hey, if you need anything call me."

"I will. Oh, Emily?" He stopped, turned back, was looking at her too intensely. "Thank you."

"For?"

He shrugged. "Just...thank you."

Emily nodded. "You're welcome."

* * *

**Union Station  
Washington DC  
 **Day #4****

**Spencer**

_Must get out. Must get out. Must get out._

Spencer practically ran out of Union Station, gasping for air, his heart pounding, nearly ready to void himself with fear. He didn't know why, he had no clue why, but he was terrified.

I might be losing my mind at last, he thought. Maybe this is how Mom felt at first.

He felt better now, now that he was outside on a humid DC evening with nothing but the sky above him. He slowly made his way across Columbus Circle and into Lower Senate Park, where he very deliberately dropped his go bag and his jacket and lay back on the grass under a tree. Much, much better.

"Hey buddy, I hope you have some kind of ID to go with that gun on your belt."

Oh. Right. Way to be careless. He pulled out his badge and handed it to the police officer looking down at him; let him examine it while he stashed his gun in his satchel. His gun and his badge, why did they feel so precious to him right now? Not that they weren't normally, but for some reason he just wanted to sit and marvel at having them in his hands.

"Sorry Agent." The police officer said as he handed Spencer's badge back. "You look like you've had a day."

Spencer nodded. "I'm going to get a cab in just a few."

"No worries. Have a good one." The cop wandered off.

Spencer lay there and looked at his badge. The ID was familiar, the picture taken when he was so very, very young. Why do I feel so old, he thought, so used? The gold of the metal seemed so heavy and so precious.

_Leave everything you want to see again._

He sat up and looked around. There was no one close to him to say that, especially no girls with voices full of fear. That had been an auditory hallucination, and one that felt very, very real. Combine that with the near panic attack he'd had in the elevator leaving work and the sudden sensation on the train that he was in a moving box and it was horrible, and the vision…

… _hallucination…_

… in the station of ranks upon ranks of …

… _cages…_

….cells, being in the bottom of a giant penitentiary and the sudden overwhelming terror that brought and…

I am not turning into my mother, he thought. I refuse to turn into my mother.

But outside felt very good to him.

When it started getting truly dark he got up, but there was no way he was going back into the station.

He hailed a cab for home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 04**

**Emily Prentiss' Apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #4**

**Emily**

Emily decided to make it a Saturday in. She stopped at her favorite market and picked up everything indulgent she thought of, cookies, pastries, ice cream, better than usual coffee, wine. Once home she ordered some inauthentic but reasonably yummy Italian food, fed Sergio, and went to change. By the time the food got there she was in her comfy clothes, and she settled in with a glass of Merlot, some timballo di bucatini and something off the stack of steamy romance novels she kept for just this sort of week-end.

The problem was, as the night went on, something that was nagging at the back of her mind kept becoming more and more of an issue. It just wouldn't go away, not when the timballo and cheesy romance turned into ice cream and a decent movie, or when the movie ended and she found herself in the tub with more wine and the rest of that novel. Finally she just gave into it and found her phone.

 _You awake?_  She debated an entire minute before sending the text to Reid

_Yeah._

_Where are you?_

_Home. Why?_

_Dunno. You OK?_

_Yeah._

_OK G'night._

_Good night_

For the life of her she did not know why she did that.

* * *

_The initial rush of the campfire had died down. She lay back in her bedroll and looked up into the sky where a gas giant overwhelmed the stars. "That's so beautiful." She murmured. "And so scary."_

" _Why scary?" He asked._

" _Our sky is nothing like that. It just shows how far from home we are. I'm used to having a team, familiar people around me. I guess it makes me feel kind of lonely."_

_He reached over and took her hand. "You're not alone in this." He pointed out. "I just hope I can get to that level of trust someday."_

" _I think you will." She looked over at him. Gentle and kind as Reid but with a body to rival Morgan's, was it any wonder why she was feeling that sudden tightness in her belly. And he read people as well as any profiler; he could probably see it on her face. "Andrew, I…."_

" _Shhh. We can't. Not until they're safe within the abbey. But once they are…." He reached over and ran one finger down the side of her neck._

_She couldn't help it. She rolled into him and found his lips with hers…_

* * *

**Giant Food**   
**4303 Connecticut Ave. NW**   
**Washington DC**

**Spencer**

Spencer lied. He was not home. And he was most certainly not okay.

Once he'd roused himself out of the park he had gone home for a time. He'd had a very long, very hot shower during which he delighted in the clean scents of shampoo and soap and eventually talc and deodorant. Then he'd put on his oldest, softest cords and a well-worn shirt and gone into the kitchen to contemplate his options. There weren't many, but he made himself a PB&J and had a glass of milk, which was usually enough to last him at the end of the day, and settled down to read.

Tonight it didn't. Before he reached the end of the book he was utterly famished.

Right then. He pulled on his ankle holster and jacket and headed for the store two blocks away. At this hour the streets were still busy enough to walk, and even if they weren't he rather thought that tonight he would have walked anyway, to delight in the open air and the sights and sounds of the city, I've been cooped up for so long, he thought.

He stopped. No he hadn't. Where did that thought come from? And come to think of it, why did he still feel like he missed Henry's birthday?

No. No, he was not turning into his mother. He was not. Simple as that.

Right. Grocery store. Corner. They usually had those rotisserie chickens and all different kinds of pre-packaged sides, he was thinking mashed potatoes, gravy, the corn medley, maybe some kind of pie for dessert. Go home, fix up a plate and settle in front of some classic Star Trek or something. Go to bed very full and content, get up tomorrow, go get Henry his gifts. It was a simple, good plan.

Until he got to the store and someone opened the door and he caught the scent of the cooking chicken.

Immediately he felt his hunger grow acute, grow  _painful_ , like his stomach was so empty it was trying to turn itself inside out. And then he felt the sensation of something in his mouth, something thick and slimy and  _furry_ , and his senses were filled with the taste of rancid fats and rotting meats and sour, fermented vegetables and the musty funk of mold, and he was eating it, he was so hungry he didn't care, he could feel it sliding down his throat in great, thick strings of foul guck. He immediately ran to the gutter and vomited back the PB&J and pretty much everything he had eaten that day, just to get that disgusting mixture out of his body.

And he was  _still_  hungry! He actually wanted that muck! What the hell was he thinking!

"Hey man, you okay?" Some guy walking by asked.

Spencer was dimly aware that he was bent over a DC gutter, that he had narrowly missed his shoes, that he was shaking, that his throat was burning, hell his nose was burning, and his mouth was full of the taste of bile and acid. But compared to what had been in there just moments before it was heavenly. "Yeah." He gasped out. "Stomach flu."

"Oh man." The Good Samaritan said before hurrying off into the store.

The scent that came out brought along a fresh wave of nausea. I can't, Spencer thought, I just can't.

He staggered back toward home. He had plenty of milk, more peanut butter and jam and bread, cold cereal for the morning. And he could get all of the above at the corner bodega a block in the opposite direction of the grocery store. He'd figure this out. Something he'd figure this out. He was not hallucinating after all. He couldn't be.

As he went a text came in on his phone.

_You awake?_

* * *

_It was cold. It was so cold in there. He couldn't move, he couldn't see, he couldn't focus on anything except what was happening to him. And what was happening to him was so very, very wrong. Just stop, he kept thinking, just stop. Just please stop touching me, please, it hurts so much. But they were laughing and they wouldn't stop. And his body was responding, damn it, if he could only have some kind of control._

" _Li fariĝas proksima." One voice growled._

" _Jes." The other responded. "Nun mi montros al vi kiel ruinigi ĝin rapide."_

_No, no, please no. I'm too close, he thought, I just…_

_There was a wave of sensation and then his body exploded in agony._

* * *

Spencer screamed himself awake from the nightmare. It was so real, so horribly real. He could still feel their hands, their breath, the pain….

His sheets were wet. His sheets were spotted wet. He had…he had…

He rolled out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and threw up his second PB&J of the night. Then he crawled into a shower, not even bothering to wait for hot, and started scrubbing the dreams off his skin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05**

**Emily Prentiss' Apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #5**

**Emily**

Emily woke up with a groan. The early morning light was just frosting the edges of the curtains. She'd intended to sleep in but after a dream that hot there was no way, no way in hell that she was getting back to sleep. Still, she thought, I could try. I could try to get back to a campfire and a guy that amazing and a sky…

Except…she couldn't. She needed to go to the gym.

She  _needed_  to go to the gym.

As she rolled and sat up she looked over at Sergio, who hadn't moved from his corner of the bed. "What kind of Guardian would I be if I didn't train? What would Reka think of me?" She asked him. But… "Now why the hell did I just say that?"

She headed for the coffee pot, determined to at least have that before she went running to the gym. Hopefully today was not going to get any weirder.

* * *

**National Harbor**   
**National Harbor MD**

**Spencer**

Spencer told himself he came for the tea.

Spencer told himself he came for the tea, and to restock his aftershave, which was one of the few he could stomach on a regular basis, and to find some interesting toys for Henry. He told himself that, and it was, in the main, true. But he came despite the hunger that gnawed at his vitals, the hunger he was barely keeping in check with peanut butter and Wonder bread and Lucky Charms from the corner bodega. Fuck his body anyway, the brain ran on glucose, he could fuel it with coffee and sugar if he had to.

As he walked along the harbor, heading back to the street, he stopped and closed his eyes to feel the sun and the sea and the breeze on his face.

" _Sing for me?" He begged._

_He could feel her smile through the steel._

  
_As we circle the world,  
With our wandering airs,  
Gathering here and there,  
Leaving behind our share,  
Like the leaves in the wind,_   
_They are blown along..._   


Her voice was as sweet as an angel. And far more real than any sound around him

Auditory hallucination, the logical part of his brain told him. One of the most common first signs.

Spencer turned and headed for the bus stop. As he went he passed a street vendor selling bandannas of all kinds. The squares were cheaply printed, not handmade treasures heavy with beads and embroidery. Not  _skal-va_ , he thought, wondering where he had heard that before. But they had just that shade of crimson and just that shade of indigo. He bought one of each and stuffed them into his satchel and was terrified all the way home.

* * *

**Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception**   
**400 Michigan Avenue NW**   
**Washington, DC**   
**Day #6**

**Emily**

Thankfully yesterday had not gotten any weirder. She hadn't even dreamed.

Emily always liked the Basilica; it reminded her so very much of the grand cathedrals of Europe. She'd gotten in the habit of coming here every Sunday when she was in town, to the 9am mass, to lose herself in the crowd and try to find the wonder of the great mystery again. Or maybe she just wanted answers, why all the evil, why all the death. Funny, she'd never heard a one. But still, it was a comforting, familiar ritual if nothing else.

Except…today it wasn't.

As she approached the doors a knot started forming in her throat. Not fear, she would have recognized fear. This was…anger, anger and revulsion as she looked up at the façade. But why? Why?

_If you pray to Him, He'll hear you._

She spun around at that hauntingly familiar voice in her ear, a voice so angry itself, so betrayed. Who the hell was that? Who got so close to her? Was it that old man over there? That one? No?

Emily turned and quickly walked away from the church, looking back over her shoulder as if something might leap out of the Knight's Tower and fly after her, screaming 'That one! That one! She knows! She knows!' But nothing came after her, and the only thing in the sky was a fluffy white cloud scuttling by.

Once in her car she headed for the gym. It seemed the best place to go.

* * *

**JJ & Will's LaMontagne's House  
Washington DC**

"Hey birthday boy!" Emily got a big hug from Henry when she came in the door. He was very polite about his gift, which went on the table to be opened later. Then he ran out to the back where Will and the other fathers were supervising the insanity. Emily gravitated to the kitchen/dining room where JJ was attempting to play the gracious hostess, which was not easy when you do what they did. "How goes it?" She asked JJ quietly in the kitchen.

"No bodies yet. Wow some people are shallow."

"Yeah, no kidding. Oooh, veggie platter." The sight of the bits of vegetables had her stomach rumbling. Granted they didn't look as good as fresh from the field, but still.

"Yeah, a lot of the other moms asked for vegetables for their kids." JJ eyed her as she filled up her Curious George plate. "Um, Em, since when do you eat rabbit food?"

"I don't know." Yesterday she had gone to the gym, ran to the gym, spent all morning working out, and then ran home again. Then she realized she only had junk food in the house and she went to the greenmarket and Whole Foods. This morning after what happened at the church she'd gone back to the gym and worked out for a good two hours. And honestly, she felt terrific. "I seem to be starting a health kick."

"Too healthy for burgers?"

"Not at all." Something about that, though, raised the hairs on the back of Emily's neck. Where was that coming from?

The door opened and all of a sudden Henry was running past them. "Uncle Spencer! Uncle Spencer!" Well, they knew who it was. Emily turned just in time to see a heavily present-laden Reid sweep Henry up into his arms for a hug, a look of exquisite pain on his face as Henry buried his head in his shoulder. "Uncle Spencer! You hug too hard!" Henry told him a moment later as he squirmed to get down.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Spencer said, putting him down again. "I just missed you so much! Here you go, happy birthday." He handed off the bags of gifts and then turned to face JJ.

"You're spoiling him."

"I'm his godfather, that's my job."

"Feeling all right then?"

"Hopefully."

"What's wrong?" Emily asked, her heart suddenly in her throat.

"Hopefully not a stomach bug," JJ replied as they watched Henry tug Spencer over to show him some toys already opened. "He called last night, said he might be coming down with it. I told him if he was to stay home, he could make it up to Henry."

"I'm glad he made it. Hey, what kind of cake did you get?"

"Chocolate with vanilla ice cream," JJ had been half-watching Spencer and Henry, now something caught her attention, "Oh no."

"What?'

"Have you ever seen Reid go green at the mention of cake and ice cream?" Just then Will came in, looking for something, letting in a waft of that heavenly scent of barbequed bacon burgers. And in one second Spencer lost it. He took off for the bathroom, and just managed to shut the door before they heard the sound of retching. "And there goes the stomach bug. If he gave it to Henry I will personally throttle him."

"No kidding." But something is not right here, Emily thought. This is wrong. This is so very wrong.

"Hey." Morgan was just letting himself in. "Where's the birthday boy? Hey, there you are!" He collected his hug and passed over his gift before joining them. "What did I miss?"

"Reid's entrance," JJ told him. "Thankfully you're here for his exit. Did you drive here?"

"Yeah, why?"

"The Godfather is down with a stomach bug. He's going to need a ride."

Morgan winced but nodded as he went to knock on the bathroom door. "Come on, I'll take you home."

A decidedly green and haggard looking Spencer finally came out. "I am so sorry." He said to JJ. "Tell Henry I'll make it up to him. I'll take him to the see the dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum as soon as I'm feeling better."

"I'll let him know. Just go home before you turn into Typhoid Mary."

"Come on." Morgan said, dragging him out. "And do not puke in or on my car."

A few minutes later Henry came up to them. "Where's Uncle Spencer?"

"He had to go home sweetie." His mother told him. "He's sick." Just the words sent a pang of fear through Emily.

Henry's eyes grey wide. "Is he sick-sick?"

Yes, Emily thought. Yes.

"No." JJ picked him up even as she looked over at her friend. "My Mom just found out she's Diabetic. So now we have sick and sick-sick, where you're okay, but you don't get better." She looked back to Henry. "Do you remember when you had a stomach bug and you spent all night in the bathroom with Daddy and a bucket? But you felt okay the next day." Henry nodded. "Well I think Uncle Spencer is spending the night with his own bucket." Henry pulled a very sympathetic icky face. "But I bet he'll be just fine tomorrow. And he said when he's feeling better he'll take you to see the dinosaurs."

"Yeah!" And with that Henry was jumping down to go play again.

JJ laughed. "See, nothing to worry about."

But Emily still worried. She just didn't know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics to "Home and the Heartland" written and arranged by Bill Whelan, used without permission and not for profit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 06**

**Emily Prentiss' Apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #7**

**Emily**

" _So you're a Healer?" Emily asked as they hiked down the hill, the river to their right. It was beautiful here. If only she wasn't so afraid._

" _Yes." Andrew replied, a little shy. "I actually planned on training for a Guardian, but during my first year Mother Abbot began noticing that I had the gift for healing. So she talked me into changing over. Granted it's a little soon to call myself a true Healer, I've been studying for all of six months now."_

" _Newbie, huh?" Emily chuckled. "Like you?"_

_He actually turned red around the ears. "Who can work with women. Most male healers only work with other men, or aren't gifted enough to work directly with female patients."_

_Ah. "Why did you come here?"_

" _My father is a member of the state church; it worships what we call the Dark One. My mother was taken. When she was brought back he insisted we do what the pastor told us to do, pretend nothing happened, not get her any help. We weren't even supposed to talk about it." He was quiet a moment. "She didn't make it. I found her body when I went out to work the farm one morning."_

_Oh god. "I'm sorry."_

" _Thanks." He clambered over a small, fallen tree, helped her over it. "It was all so stupid and so wrong. The next time the Esalen Missionaries came through town Kira and I defied our father and the state priests and came back here with them. She was going to try for Healer, but we ended up switching paths."_

" _And what do you heal?"_

" _The sickness."_

" _What sickness?"_

" _The one people get in The Cages."_

Emily woke up screaming.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI building**   
**Quantico VA**

**Emily**

Thankfully Spencer was at work the next morning. Unfortunately he looked like hell. "Why are you here?"

"To work?" He replied. "Isn't that why we're all here?"

"No, I mean you're sick." She pointed out as JJ went and held Spencer's head steady as she felt his forehead. "You can stand down for a few days you know."

"He's running a fever." JJ pointed out. "With our luck he's contagious."

"I think it's just a mild case of food poisoning." Spencer replied. "If I just stick to bland food for a few days I'll be fine."

"Did you eat anything this morning?" Emily asked.

"Cream of Wheat, my Mom used to make it for me when I was sick."

"That's what I give Henry." JJ said. "Are you taking anything for it?" Spencer held up a bottle of pink goo. "Well, that should help."

"I hope it does." Emily said as she watched Garcia walk a file over to Hotch's office. "Because it looks like we've got a case."

* * *

Later that day they were in another police station in another dusty town. Rossi finally broke from going over evidence with a groan. "Is anyone else getting hungry?" They all nodded their answer, all except Spencer.

"Betty's down the street is a good place for a quick meal." The sheriff told them.

They started making ready to go, all except Spencer. "You guys go; I'm not feeling very hungry." He replied. "I'm going to keep going over the videotape, I'm sure we're missing something."

"Spence, you need to eat." JJ told him. "You cannot survive on coffee and tea, no matter how much sugar you add and do not quote me statistics to the contrary."

Emily was trying to ignore the alarm bells shrieking in the back of her head. He just had some mild food poisoning, that's all. "How about if we bring something back for you?"

Spencer nodded to that. "Something very bland, thank you."

"Sure."

Less than an hour later they were back. "They did not have Cream of Wheat, although they said you can have it for breakfast." Emily told him. "I have plain mashed potatoes, chicken and rice soup, a triple serving of Jell-o and cranberry juice for you."

"Thank you." But the moment he opened the carton of soup he went green again. Thankfully he managed to hold on to his gorge, and the mashed potatoes disappeared with ease, along with the juice, and followed by the Jell-o. At least it was something, she thought, which was better than nothing at all.

* * *

In the only motel in town, a truly crappy place with paper thin walls, Emily had the room next to Spencer. Sometime around 11, before she even had a chance to go to bed she heard him stirring in there. At first she thought he was just settling, but then she heard the distinct sound of retching, followed by traditional flush and then the music of the shower. Damn, she thought; that bites.

_Emily looked down at the cluster of buildings, carefully hidden away in the foothills. It had a familiar pattern...yes, it did look a lot like a good sized abbey, she could see it now. "Cage sickness?" She asked._

" _That's what we call it." Andrew replied. "People come back with it after they're taken."_

* * *

Some sound woke Emily. She squinted at the clock, registering 1 am about the same time that she heard him reversing gears again. She rolled over and fell asleep to the music of his shower.

" _So not everyone comes here?"_

" _No. Only the brave ones come here. The Priests of the Dark One teach that when someone is returned from the Cages the only correct response is to pretend nothing happened; to just go back to work like that person had never been gone. It rarely worsk, they just get sicker." Andrew sighed. "The brave ones defy the Priests. They acknowledge that their loved one is sick through no fault of their own and do what they can to help. And, if they're lucky, they cross paths with one of our Missionary teams and they bring them to us for healing. If they're from the villages that can mean having to leave your extended family, your home, farmland, everything. In the Below they have to find their way out first." He shook his head. "We don't get many survivors from Below."_

* * *

She heard it again at three and rolled over.

_Emily watched the small hive of activity. The hillsides nearest the abbey had been carefully contour planted, and were being tended by workers in the cool afternoon air. In one courtyard people, probably what he called Guardians, seemed to have gathered around a sparring ring. In another fewer people seemed to wander aimlessly. "Survivors?" She asked_

_Andrew looked away, sadness in his eyes. "The ones who don't come here wander off to die, like my mother. Or they die in their sleep, or they take their own life."_

* * *

And again at five, when she pulled the pillow over her ears.

_Emily turned in horror. "That's not going to happen!"_

_Andrew shook his head. "No, it won't. Once they come here they almost never die, and if they do it was because they were somehow sick before they went in. If he was healthy…"_

" _He is."_

" _They we'll be able to help. At worst he may be too fragile to go back out into the world…."_

" _He won't be."_

" _Emily…"_

" _He won't be!" She insisted; the panic rising in her chest again. "He'll be fine, he has to be!"_

* * *

At seven when they met in the parking lot. Spencer looked pale and drawn and haggard, and while he usually had bags under his eyes today he was carrying a matched set, including the train case. Emily took one look and pulled Hotch aside. "Leave Reid at the station today," she told him. "I know he's trying to soldier through but he was up and down all night getting sick."

"Right."

* * *

On the plane home Spencer sat off in the two-seat pod, where people usually sat when they really wanted to be alone. But Emily sat across from him anyway. "Hey." She said as she dropped into the seat. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Reid."

"I'm fine."

"Reid."

"It's just food poisoning, Emily, I swear."

"Yeah, but it sounds considerably more than 'mild'. You should go see a doctor." The moment the word came out of her mouth he blanched. "What?"

"Nothing. Really, don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

She sighed. "You know you keep saying that. But I'm still worried about you." She reached over and took his hand, surprised by how tightly he gripped hers in return. That drew her attention and she looked down. "Reid?" His hand was red and flaking, slight cuts opening in his knuckles, as if he had been working in water all day. Or as if he had scrubbed and scrubbed. She let go and pushed up his cuff, seeing that the redness went up his arm. What the hell? Really, what the hell?

Spencer gently pushed her hands away. "I'm fine, Emily. I am." He picked up his cup and gracefully got to his feet. "I'm going to get some more tea."

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 07**

**Emily Prentiss' Apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #9**

**Emily**

_She was exhausted already, worn out by speed and bumps and having to hold stiller than she'd like to stay within the force field surrounding the train. Emily hadn't expected this to happen at night; hadn't expected to be able to see the great gas giant hanging in the sky above her, its rainbow of colors still taking her breath away._

" _Here we go." Reka called from the other car._

_Emily looked over at Andrew. He looked terrified. She took his hand and held on tight and remembered that he'd never done this, had never even been inside a building larger than the abbey hall, had never been where he couldn't quickly feel the wind on his face or the grass under his feet. She was once again reminded of Spencer, and the kind of strength that yielded and bent rather than holding hard and fast. But those who held hard and fast can shatter if hit wrong or too often, while those who bent never did break. Which kind am I, she thought, will I bend to this place or will I break?_

_Then the sound of the train changed as it slowed, and blackness swallowed up the sky._

Once again Emily woke screaming.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico VA**

**Emily**

Emily didn't like the look on Reid's face as he came out of Hotch's office. "What did he say?" She asked, casually.

"He said to take the rest of the week off." Spencer said as he sat at his desk. He was too calm somehow, too tight. He was straightening everything with meticulous care, gentle as if he was afraid the files and the pencils might break when he set them down.

"So go home."

No, from the rigid set of his shoulders, the tightness of the muscles in his neck, he was afraid he was about to break. "I want to work, Emily."

"It's a half a week. We can live without you for two and a half days. Unless you were planning on working the week-end too." For a moment guilt was added to the expressions on his face. "You were going to work over the week-end. Okay, no, Reid. Go home. Eat Cream of Wheat. Drink lots of clear liquids. Lounge around on your couch and catch up with whatever is on your DVR. Rest."

"I  _need_  to be at work."

"You need to take care of yourself first."

"I  _am_  taking care of myself. You…you…"

All of a sudden she was struck by the need to be gentle, "I what, Reid?"

Spencer looked up at her, something desperate in his eyes, like he was about to tell her…but just then Morgan wandered through the bullpen. "Hey pretty boy!" He said, ruffling Spencer's hair. "How's the…"

He was probably going to say '…stomach?' but he didn't get that far. Spencer reacted violently, spinning and jerking away, his eyes wild and suddenly terrified. "What?" Morgan asked.

"I…I'm…I'm not feeling well." Spencer said, still clearly afraid. "I'm going home." With that he quickly bundled up his bag and almost ran from the office.

Morgan watched him go, and then pointed after him, a question written all over his face. Emily just shrugged and shook her head. She knew what it looked like, but there was no way. Just no way.

* * *

Later that afternoon Rossi caught up with her in the file room. "Emily, can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure, Dave, what's up?" When Rossi led with your first name it meant it was personal, not business.

"Do you know what's going on with Spencer?"

Not what she was expecting. "What?"

"Aaron asked me to ask around, off the record. So far JJ and Garcia don't have a clue. Neither does Morgan but he's concerned as well. Do you know anything?"

Well hell. She looked at him, tried to decide if she should say anything or nothing or…damn it. She sighed, sagged and finally slumped onto the footstool that was sitting in the aisle. "Okay, this is going to sound crazy…I don't know if it's my intuition or if it's these weird dreams I've been having but…for some reason for the past few days every time I look at him I just…I keep thinking that he's really sick, that he's falling apart somehow, and that it's my fault and my responsibility to fix it."

"Why?"

"I don't know." That was the part that kept baffling her. "I just keep dreaming about this guy, Andrew, and this place….and I know Reid is involved and he was in trouble somehow. But I don't know how or where or what…" She huffed a sigh. "I know it sounds insane."

"Andrew."

"Yeah, taller than Reid, built better than Morgan; kinda had the surfer-god thing going, very Zen. Brother Andrew. Now why did I just call him that?" She growled in frustration and got up to pace. "It's like I keep getting snippets of things, like I'll be standing somewhere and all of a sudden I'll hear him say something or I'll see a particular shade of blue or red and think that's him or Reka or…"

"Who?"

"Someone else I've been dreaming about. Tall, dark, reminded me of Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2. Lately I've been eating…probably healthier than I have in my life and going to the gym every day and I keep thinking I have to do it because Reka would be disappointed if I didn't keep up. She feels that real to me even though I know I've never met anyone with that name."

Rossi looked thoughtful for a moment. "What else? No, don't think about it, right off the top of your head."

Emily grabbed the first thought that came to her. "I can't find my rosary. Mom got it from the Vatican, blessed by John Paul the second. It's never left my pocket, ever, and now I can't find it."

"When do you last remember having it?"

"The case in Green Bay. No, the flight home. I remember sticking my hand in my pocket and being glad it was there in case we ran into problems again. And then we did…." Wait…

"What?"

"This all started on that trip. I remember telling, I think it was Garcia, how I felt like I lost time on that trip. Like we'd been gone weeks, not days."

Rossi paced around slowly, thinking. "Okay, this is going to sound a little nuts, but indulge me. Do you remember what Reid was talking about on the way out? Something called the Michigan Triangle?'

"Yeah, like the Bermuda Triangle?" Suddenly Emily realized what he was getting at. "No."

"Indulge me." He watched her carefully. "During the flight, when the turbulence knocked you two down, you two both disappeared."

No. No way. Emily shook her head. "That's not possible."

"I know. But I couldn't see you two, and then all of a sudden you were there. And now you're missing something you wouldn't lose and you're having what sounds like flashbacks and repressed memories coming out…"

"Dave, this is crazy."

"…and Reid is acting like he's coming off some kind of trauma. That's what Morgan said; he said Reid was acting like someone had hurt him, his words. What little evidence we have is pointing at something happening about that time and the only time in there we can't track is that thirty seconds."

Emily opened her mouth to argue but closed it again. He was right. It wasn't much but based on what they had… "So what do you want to do?"

"Well, given that this is highly speculative I say we don't do anything here. I'll come by your place tonight, dinner on me, and we'll try a cognitive interview, see if we can get at what your brain is trying to tell you."

Emily sighed. "It could be that I'm just losing my mind."

"At least then we'll know."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 08**

**Emily Prentiss' apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #9**

**Emily**

Rossi brought over lasagna, garlic bread, little almond cookies and really good wine. Emily contributed a salad with a sharp dressing and an excellent decaf blend. Sergio provided the entertainment. They discussed Rome over dinner, from the Vatican to have you seen to did you ever visit to do you know, the last of which didn't get them very far. But it kept their minds off of what they were going to be doing, which was the entire point.

Eventually they settled in her living room, quite, comfortable, and relaxed. "All right, you know how this goes." Rossi said to her. "Now take a deep breath…"

"Yeah, I know how this goes." Emily took a few deep breaths, willing herself to relax, to almost enter a mild trance state. That was the whole point of the cognitive interview, to relax and not over think and let the details you didn't even know you remembered come through.

"Okay, we'll start on the plane. It's late. We're on our way back from Green Bay. You're standing by the galley. What do you smell?"

"The polish they use, a bit of that blue stuff from the head. The tea Reid's making us, he found a new blend he wanted to share. It's smoky, Lapsang, but with some cinnamon. I can smell his aftershave, it's subtle, nice."

"What's he talking about?"

"Dr. Who. I skipped this one episode because David Tennant wasn't really in it; turned out it was the one where they introduced the Weeping Angels. Reid's trying to catch me up on them. He's got that shy smile going, he's blushing a little…I think he has a crush on Sally Sparrow but I can't tell if it's the actress or the character."

"Okay, now the plane is starting to shake…."

"Reid looks around, he's concerned. I am too. Whoa!"

"What is it?"

"That was a hard jolt. It knocked the teapot over, there's tea everywhere. Reid's trying to catch it…oh! We just got knocked over…I landed against the bulkhead….Reid is on the floor…Hotch is telling us to try to strap in. Yeah, good plan. This plane…it feels like a boat riding the waves or something. It's lifting up and…oh, I just landed on Reid. Ow…It's lifting up again...oh! Wait…"

"What is it?"

"I'm not on the plane."

"You're not on the plane?"

"No. Everything is different."

"What do you smell?"

"Um, grass. Trees. Pine. …"

"What do you hear?"

"Birds. Water running. That's…that's a woodpecker…I'm in a forest."

"Are you?"

"Yeah, I'm opening my eyes and rolling over. There are trees above me, lots of them. The sky is blue. I think that might be a squirrel."

"Okay, you're lying there. What happened next?"

"I get to my feet…Ow…. Okay…okay…I'm a little dizzy but it's passing. I check my pockets, gun first, badge, keys, wallet, rosary, cell phone. I pull it out to check, its working but I don't have any signal. Okay, now what? I get my bearings and head toward the water sound."

"How long does it take you to get there?"

"Just a few minutes. It's a river, running down a gorge; I'm pretty high above it. The forest has opened up but still no signal."

"Okay, what do you do?"

"If you stick near a river you're likely to find people. It looks like downhill would be easier than up…wait… there's someone coming out of the woods on the other side of the river."

"Male or female?"

"Female, white, maybe early 20's. It's too far for eye color, and she has a red bandanna or something over her head. She's armed, bow and a quiver. There's someone behind her…male, white, also in his 20's but older, big build, tall, blue bandanna over his head…he's carrying some kind of basket under his arm…now there's a third…oh god…" She waved her arms a little, lost in the memory. "Reid? Reid!"

"Does he see you?"

"Yes, he's calling back to me."

"How does he look?"

"Fine, a little jumbled, like he fell or something but he seems all right?"

"Does he look afraid at all? Are they threatening him?"

"No. He doesn't look afraid. They aren't threatening him. Their body language is calm and open and they're keeping a distance."

"Is he still armed?" Rossi asked

Emily mentally squinted. "Yes. I can see his revolver on his hip."

"Okay, what happened next?"

"I ask him where we are and he says he doesn't know. Then he's pointing down the river, and he's saying that they said there's a bridge downstream, stay on the path and I'll find it. Good plan, once we're together again we can figure this out. I start heading down."

"Do they head that way too?"

"Yeah, but the paths go back into the trees. I've lost sight of him."

"All right, you're walking downhill through a forest beside a river gorge. How long does it take you?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"Okay. Does anything catch your attention? Anything odd at all?"

Emily thought and shook her head. "No. No, it's a nice day. I wish I had a jacket and some hiking boots but it's not bad. The path leads away from the river, there are boulders in the way, but I can still hear it off to my right." No, something was off…

"What is it?"

"Something's changed. I can see the bridge up ahead, but something's not right…"

"What do you smell?"

"Pine, fir, the forest."

"What do you hear?"

"Nothing. The river but…The birds have gone quiet."

"Like they sense a threat?"

"Yeah, and there's this…this almost subsonic humming…I can't make it out…" Her head jerked up as she heard something in her memory. "Reid?" All of a sudden her adrenalin started pumping from the memory.

"What is it?"

"I heard a gunshot."

"Where?"

I can't tell where it's coming from. I start running to the bridge …There's another one; it's from across the river. I run over the bridge and back up the hill…there's another, it's uphill and back from the river….Reid! Reid! I'm running in that direction…the forest opens up, there's a big meadow reaching up to the crest of the hill…I can't see anything…the grass is waist high, hard to run through….and something…"

"What do you smell?"

"Fire. Grass burning. Ozone. Cordite, I'm close. I'm getting my gun out just in case."

"What do you hear?"

"Nothing. The breeze in the grass, I can't even hear the river from here."

"What do you see?"

"There's something in the grass up ahead…It's flat, like it's been pressed down somehow, a big, trampled circle. And there are two round burned spots."

"How recently?"

"Really recently, they're still smoking, and you can feel the heat. The ozone is stronger."

"Do you see anything…"

"No…yes, something in the grass over there."

"Take a look."

"It's a bow and a quiver and a knife, like they were thrown here."

"Is the bow the one the girl was carrying?"

"It's…yes, it's painted. I think it's the same one. I'm looking around more, checking any disturbances in the grass…oh god…" She reached for something, just like she had.

"What is it?"

"Reid's weapon….and his phone…and his badge…and his glasses. Oh god he was here, he was right here! Reid! Reid!"

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 09**

**Emily Prentiss' apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #9**

**Emily**

The shock of what she remembered shook Emily right out of her memories. She couldn't decide if she needed water or wine or something stronger right at that moment. Spencer was  _gone_. Spencer was gone, and she didn't know where she was, she didn't have a signal, she didn't…

"Here," Rossi stuck a glass of cold water in her hand, which she gulped gratefully. "That must have been quite a shock."

"Yeah, it was. But…none of this is real."

"Are you sure? Your memories are clear enough for it to be real. And it fits what we have so far, you're repressing memories out of guilt, Reid is reacting to whatever happened while you two were separated."

"But how?"

"I have no idea. Do you want to keep going?"

Emily nodded. "Yes. Until we find something."

* * *

 

**Hills above Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

Oh god. Oh god. Okay think, why would Reid throw his gun, badge and phone away? Because he didn't want them to know he was a cop? Okay, that makes sense but who were they? Where were they? And why toss his glasses too?

Emily picked up the items on the ground. She didn't have the code for Reid's phone but it still worked, his glasses were unharmed, and his gun…he fired off three rounds out of six. If it was worth firing why didn't he keep firing? Why did he stop? She looked around, there was forest on three sides, down the hill, along the river, and then up to the crest of the hill…she could see mountains in the distance. "Spencer." She said quietly, longingly. "Where did you go?"

"Kira!"

Emily spun and crouched in the long grass, pulling her weapon and looking in that direction. "Kira!" The male voice called again. From her hidden place in the grass she watched the man she'd seen with Spencer earlier enter the cleared space. He looked at it, wide eyed, reaching up to clutch at his head, a universal expression of shock. "No." He said, "No. No. No…" Then he spotted the bow and arrow in the grass and let out a howl that echoed down the mountain. "NOOOOO!" He fell back, landing on his ass, clutching his head as his chest started to hitch.

If nothing else he was a little too close to that knife for comfort. "Hey!" He looked up, surprised, and scuttled backward away from her. "FBI! Don't move! Keep your hands where I can see them!"

"FB…what?" He held his hands up tentatively. "Is that a weapon?"

What? "Yeah, it's a gun. Now don't move." She slowly circled him, never taking her gun off of him, until she got to where she could pick up that knife and tuck it into her belt where she had Reid's weapon. "What's your name?"

"Andrew. What's yours?"

"You got a last name Andrew?"

He looked at her, confused, "A last name?"

"Yeah, your family name."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Okay. You were with a man earlier, I saw you both across the river…"

Andrew nodded. "Yeah, he said his name was Spencer. Oh…" A look of understanding crossed his face, followed by a wave of compassion. "You're his Guardian. That's right, I should have known. I am so sorry. Look, you couldn't have done anything; they came out of nowhere…"

"You saw what happened?"

"No, I was hiding." Her expression must have changed. "Hey, that's what we're supposed to do, hide until they get tired of looking. Kira must have tried to draw them off." He sagged. "Stupid."

"Who are they?"

"Flyers. From the City. They come out to the countryside to take people; this is the time of year for our quadrant. We have no record of them coming this far into the hills before; it's too easy to hide."

"How do you know the flyers took them?"

He nodded to the ground. "You leave behind anything you want to see again and hope that someone you know finds it. Besides, that's a hover pattern in the grass. Can I get up and put my hands down now?"

She nodded, that explained why Spencer left what he did, "Slowly." He carefully got to his feet. "Turn around and lift your shirt up."

"Why?"

"Just do it." He did as told. He was wearing a pair of darker canvass pants with some kind of boots under them, and a coarsely woven vest over a knit shirt cut like a Henley. It could have easily concealed a weapon, but he wasn't carrying one. All right, she lowered and holstered her weapon. "How far away is this city?"

"A hundred and twenty leagues, roughly."

"Huh?"

He shrugged. "About sixteen days by horse."

A well-trained horse could go twenty-five miles a day, which meant… "Four hundred miles?!" Emily felt the panic starting to well within her.

"I guess."

"Is there any way that's faster than a horse? A flyer?"

"Flyers only land inside the City. There's the train, which gets there in a day."

"Okay."

"But it only comes out at harvest time."

"When is that?"

"Uhhh, about four months."

She just gaped at him. "Or not." Fuck, Spencer…. "I don't suppose there's any way to contact them, tell them there's been a mistake? Maybe I can talk them into giving him back." You can always fall back on a profile.

He shook his head. "There's no way to contact them, it's all done by machine. They always come back anyway."

Oh. "Right. So I just have to wait here for him." Not something she liked doing, but she could give it a little time, she could be patient.

"Yeah. You're more than welcome to stay with us. I'm pretty sure they have plenty of room in the Priory wing and there's always a need for more Guardians."

"I don't think I'm going to be here that long." Wait a minute. "How long does it usually take for them to come back?"

Andres sighed again, "A year."

Aw hell. "All right, sixteen days it is. Where can I get a horse?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to go get him."

"You can't."

Oh for god's sake. "Why not?"

"He's been taken to the Cages. There's no way out."

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Hills above Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Emily**

"Bullshit." Emily said at last. She was standing on the side of a hill in the middle of a very strange clearing talking to a very pleasant, very attractive young man. At any other time she might have enjoyed this meeting. But she had no clue where she was, she couldn't get a cell signal, and Reid was missing, apparently captured and hundreds of miles away. Her patience was understandably running a bit thin. "And don't bother arguing with me, just show me where I can get a horse and point me toward the City."

Andrew, the man in question sagged. "We have maps in the abbey archives."

"And how far away is that?" If he answers in days, she thought, I may have to throttle him.

"Bottom of the hills. About a thirty minute walk from here."

Finally. "Great. Let's go." She turned to head out but he didn't. He was looking at the bow and quiver on the grass. Uh oh. "Don't even think it." She bent and started gathering them up.

"I know. Healers aren't supposed to touch weapons." He sighed. "It's just…take care of them, please? They meant a lot to her."

"I will." With two guns, a hunting knife, and now a bow and arrows Emily felt ridiculously over armed. "Lead the way."

He did, down the hill and back toward the bridge, stopping only to retrieve a basket which appeared to be full of various green things. "You know, you never told me your name." He said.

"Emily. You said abbey, so it's Brother Andrew?" Her luck, right?

"Yeah. We're Síochánta Missionaries; our Abbey is a healing center."

"And Kira is one of the Sisters?"

"No, Kira is one of the Guardians, like you. Only probably not as good yet." He was quiet a moment. "But she is also my younger sister."

"Oh crap." No wonder he was so upset. "I'm sorry."

"So am I. She'll be all right though. She's healthy and strong, she'll make it." They reached the bridge, their boot heels echoing as they crossed over. "You said something else earlier, FBI?"

"Yeah, I'm a Federal Agent." He looked confused. "Federal Bureau of Investigation?" Nope. "United States of America?" Nope. She pulled out her badge and showed him. "Police officer?"

Still nothing, but he did take a closer look at her badge. "Wow. I've seen one of these before. Well, I mean not exactly like this but close."

"Where? Who?" Maybe they could make a connection here.

"In the Abbey library. There was a thing…"

"A thing?"

"Yeah, the records said it was called a 'plane'. It ran into one of the mountains, oh, years ago, well before I was born. It came through a portal."

"A portal?"

"Yeah. This thick bank of fog will appear for no reason; it's like a giant column, goes from the ground all the way up into the sky. Sometimes people or things come out of those."

The fog over the lake. "We went in to one of those." Emily said, suddenly even more confused.

"That's probably how you got here. Anyway, according to the record the plane-thing did as well, and it hit the ground hard. Most people were dead by the time the Guardians got there. A few lasted a while, and one of them was a Guardian from wherever you're from. They're all buried in our cemetery now."

"That's good, thank you." An agent somehow brought here with a plane full of people which crashed. At least he had a decent burial. "Do you remember his name?"

Andrew thought a long moment. "No. But it's in the library; we'll be able to find it."

* * *

**Emily Prentiss' apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #9**

"Hold up a minute." Rossi said. "There was another agent there?"

Emily blinked her way out of the light trance. "No. Yes. I'm not sure."

"Did he take you to the library?"

She thought a moment. "I think he did."

"I want to try skipping ahead to that part."

"All right."

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

After dinner that night Andrew took her to the library. It was dark, hard to see without electricity, but they had ample candles everywhere. Still, "We should have waited until tomorrow." He complained.

"No, I need to know." Emily replied. "If someone else was here…"

"Here we go." He said, opening the door to a room that felt almost cavernous, "This way."

He led the way around tables and past shelves of books, any number of them. "Reid would love this place." Emily murmured. "We'd never get him out of it."

She could hear the smile in Andrew's voice. "Yeah, Healers can be like that. I can spend whole days reading. Over here." He turned into the stacks, to a shelf along the side, all hand bound books and boxes. There were small shelves here and there to hold their candles. "Ummm….this one." He pulled out a book and a leather box, passing the box to Emily. "According to the record his name was William, he was a Guardian, he survived four days after the crash and died from a broken rib cage after he started coughing blood. He said the Healer he was guarding died in the crash and that we should give these things to any Guardians from his world who came after him."

Emily opened the box. Inside were some papers, a very old revolver, and a folder for a badge… "Oh my god…"

* * *

**Emily Prentiss' apartment**   
**Georgetown**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #9**

"What do you see?" Rossi asked.

"He was a US Marshal. William Donnely. Badge number 379023. I…I can't make out the paperwork, it's too old, I can't read the writing. It looks like some kind of transfer forms."

"That's all right." Rossi replied. "Have you ever heard the name William Donnely before?"

Emily thought. "No…no, it's not familiar. And I don't have any real contacts with the Marshals Service."

"Good." Rossi nodded. "That's something we can check."

* * *

**Dave Rossi's home**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

After everything that had happened it was decided that the Unsubs could chase each other for a few days. Emily called in mental health for the rest of the week, something the Department allowed if not abused. Given that she never had before it was okay.

After hitting the gym the next day, Thursday, Emily headed over to Rossi's to keep going. Now she was curious as hell about what might have happened. Even though she'd have to make it home after more interview time, it was worth it for Dave's lasagna. "Did your contact find anything?" She asked after accepting a glass of wine and settling in at the counter.

"He did." Rossi nodded to the file in front of her. "Have a look."

Emily opened the file and felt the world spin. The very first thing was a copy of Donnely's ID, with a picture she had last seen in a candlelit library in an abbey very far away. "That's him. That's the same ID."

"William Donnely, age 37. He'd been with the Marshals since the war ended in '45. No family, thankfully. His last assignment was escorting a Dr. George Kellerman into Witness Protection, apparently Kellerman was a dentist; he had worked on some members of the Mob who had babbled under the gas."

"What happened to them?"

"They were onboard Northwest Orient Airlines Flight 2501, the New York to Seattle run on June 23, 1950. It ran into a fog bank over Lake Michigan and disappeared. They found some light wreckage, but not enough to account for the plane. It and fifty-five people simply disappeared. He and Kellerman are still listed as missing."

"They went through a portal." Emily murmured. "If the plane even made it through it would have been impossible for the pilots to recover quickly enough to avoid the mountain."

Rossi nodded. "Kellerman died in the crash, Donnely lasted a few days longer. But what's more important…" Rossi stopped stirring and came over for his own wine. "What happened to you was real."

"And what happened to Spencer was real too."

"And now we have proof. Let's see what else we can dig out before we go talk to him."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Dave Rossi's home**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

**Emily**

But before they could do anything Emily's phone rang, from a familiar number, "Hey Garcia."

"Hey Em." She had that small, worried, sad sound going.

"What's wrong?"

"What are the symptoms of schizophrenia?"

"What?"

"I need to know and I can't call Morgan because he would freak and I can't call JJ because they took Henry to see her Mom so I'm calling you."

Wait. "Hang on, you're going on speaker. Is Reid there with you?"

"I'm at his place; he's kind of a mess. He called for help."

"Well that's good. Can you go to speaker?"

"Not on this phone."

"Okay, tell Reid he's not developing schizophrenia."

"I've tried that, he just rattled off a list of symptoms at me."

"No no, I'm not saying that nothing's wrong, only that I don't think he's becoming  _schizophrenic_. Tell him that, and ask him if he thinks he's hallucinating right now."

There was a pause. "He said no."

"Not at all?"

"No."

"Ask him if he's been dreaming of or hallucinating about Kira and Andrew."

There was a moment's pause. "Okay, you just stumped the genius. He wants to know how you knew."

"Garcia." Dave spoke up. "Bring him over to my place. Tell him to pack for a few days; he's staying in my guest room. And tell him not to argue, I'll just arrest him and drag him over here."

"And tell him Dave is making lasagna."

There was a pause. "Okay, he just went green at that. He said he can't be around cooking meat right now, the smell seems to be what's making him sick."

"I've got it covered." Dave replied. "Get over here."

There was a much longer pause, the sound of a bit of arguing in the back ground. But finally. "Okay. We should be there in thirty."

"Good." Dave nodded to Emily to hang up.

"He's staying here?" Emily asked. "What's up with that?"

Dave was quiet a moment. "You know, I never told anyone at the Bureau. Not even Aaron."

Huh. "I won't share."

"Carolyn and I had a son."

That stunned her. "Dave! I didn't know…"

"No one does. We never told anyone."

"Where is he?"

"Buried next to his mother."

Oh. Oh god. "Oh. Oh Dave I'm so sorry."

He nodded and picked up his wine again. "Thank you."

"But I don't…"

"James would be thirty-one this year."

And the penny dropped again, "Same age as Spencer."

"Close enough." He raised his glass to the memory. "Just between you and me, William Reid is the stupidest bastard I ever left walking."

Emily nodded. "Amen to that." She said gently. Of all the people she never expected to have in their corner.

Dave toasted again in agreement, and then pulled out a small saucepan. He filled it with water and put it on a burner to start heating. "Hopefully this will help; this and opening some of the windows." Emily got the hint and went to do that, opening to get some cross ventilation. When she got back Dave had some cinnamon sticks and cloves simmering in the water, and was adding the peel off a lemon. "My grandmother taught me this trick, after she fried fish."

By the time Spencer and Garcia got there the house smelled bright and spicy, the lasagna cooking and the sauce on the stove only soft counter notes. Thankfully Spencer did not run for the bathroom as soon as he walked in. He just stood there looking drawn and wan and utterly exhausted. The first thing Emily did was pull him into a tight hug. "No dying." She said quietly. "I promised."

"I'll try not to." He promised in return.

"Sit." Dave said when they made it to the kitchen. He put a bowl with some garlic bread covered in meat sauce down in front of him. "Try it. If it doesn't work the bathroom is in there, we'll try something else."

Spencer obligingly took a bite. "It's delicious." He pronounced after it went down and didn't seem to want to go anywhere. "Do you have any more?"

"Can you wait until dinner?"

"Uh, he's been living off of cold cereal and peanut butter sandwiches from the corner market." Garcia pointed out. "I don't think you need to worry about his appetite."

Dave sighed, and dished up a larger bowl. "Couldn't you at least get take-out?"

"I didn't know what I could eat!" Spencer protested. "Every grocery store has those rotisserie chickens going these days. I can't even make it past the door."

"Well at least we know you can eat Italian." Emily sighed. "That must have been what did it at the party, Will was barbequing…"

Spencer groaned. "Please don't remind me."

Dave nodded in agreement. "Bringing up my sauce would be sinful." He turned to Spencer. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Uhhh, a few weeks? Maybe?"

"Can you pin it to a specific event?"

Spencer thought a moment. "That case in Green Bay."

"Uh-huh. Once you take the edge off there I want to do a cognitive interview."

Spencer blanched. "Rossi…"

"Humor me."

"No, Rossi…."

"What?"

"I've…I've had the worst stuff going through my head…remembering my Dad and Riley Jenkins was lightweight compared to this."

"Does this feel at all like that?"

"Kind of…maybe…but there's no way what I'm…seeing could be real."

"Then how did Emily know their names?" Yep, that stumped the genius. "Look, it's not like we're going to force you, you can stop if you need to, but if I'm right we won't be getting into anything disturbing." Dave's tone grew even gentler. "Let us help you." For a long moment they watched as Spencer seemed to grow more weary and frail right before their eyes, but finally he nodded. "Good. You get the living room. Penelope, you get to come take notes. Emily, make a salad."

"Oh jeez, thanks," she replied.

"Anytime." They went into the living room and settled. "Okay." Dave said calmly. "You know how this goes. Take a few deep breaths. We'll start on the plane. It's late. We're on our way back from Green Bay. You're standing by the galley. What do you smell?"

"Disinfectant. Emily's perfume. Mostly the tea I'm making, it's a blend of Assam black tea, Chinese Keemun, and pine-smoked Lapsang along with several warming spices, it's very comforting for a night flight."

"What are you two talking about?"

"Dr. Who. She skipped episode number 186 "Blink", it's the one where they introduce the Weeping Angels as a nemesis of the Doctor, it's also the only episode that featured the character Sally Sparrow, which was unfortunate, the actress, Carey Mulligan, did amazing work in that one. She went on to receive an Academy Award nomination for her work on the movie  _An Education_."

"Right. You're on the plane; you're in the galley talking with Emily. Now the plane starts to shake. What's happening?"

Spencer almost instinctively grabbed for the arm of the couch. "Turbulence. Annnd there goes the teapot. I should have known that would happen. Whoa! ... I just got knocked to the floor. This is much worse than I expected….Hotch just told us to get in a seat, I'm trying but…Emily just landed on top of me…It feels like waves on a boat, we keep lifting up and dropping…"

"Okay, it's lifting you up and dropping you again and…"

Spencer's jaw slowly dropped open. "I'm…I'm not on the plane."

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Hills above Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Spencer**

One moment the plane was lifting him up and threatening to drop him hard against the deck. The next moment he landed just as hard, but it wasn't against the deck.

Spencer lay there a moment and just caught his breath. Everything had stopped moving. In fact everything had changed. It actually took him a few before his brain reset his gears. It felt like static, something that didn't happen very often. Some small part of him actually almost enjoyed the sensation.

Eventually he opened his eyes, experienced the sensation again as he stared at the blades of grass in front of his nose, and then finally got it together enough to roll over onto his back. At which point he wallowed in static a while as he contemplated the trees above him. I was on the plane, he thought. I was on the plane and now I'm here. Where is here?

In times of crisis keep calm and call Garcia.

He sat up, slowly, sore as hell from being put through the blender of turbulence, and then just as slowly got to his feet, dusting off his pants and shaking leaves out of his hair. He pulled out his phone and sagged. "Damn it." No signal. Maybe it was the tree cover. He heard the sound of water nearby, perhaps a river. The trees would open up there, and if there was a waterfall he might be able to get higher. He might be able to get a signal that way.

Or he had cracked his head and this was all a dream, or a hallucination, but that was…unlikely. It would be highly unusual for a hallucination this complex to come on suddenly. Schizophrenic hallucinations usually came on gradually, and he hadn't been noticing anything. Granted he could have somehow experienced some kind of brain damage and was merrily dreaming in a coma, but if that was the case there was nothing he could do about it. So we will proceed with the assumption that this is real and work with it as we go. Royal we, he thought with a private smile.

It was then that he heard voices up ahead.

"Do you want me to help?" A female voice asked.

"No. I just need to dig a little more." A male voice replied. "You're supposed to be on guard, remember."

"Yeah, like a wild cat is going to come anywhere near us."

"Wild pig will. Those have nasty tempers."

"Good trading though."

"Yeah, assuming you can hit it."

"I can hit it."

He came around the tree and spotted the female speaker. She appeared to be in her early to mid-20's, was wearing a black knit shirt that hugged her curves and black trousers under what appeared to be a leather vest and leather gauntlets. She stood just barely under his height, with a sturdy build, soft brown hair that hung in curls and multiple small braids dotted with beads on either side of her face, peeking out from under the red kerchief she was wearing. She also had a bow in hand, a quiver strung across her back, and a large hunting knife on her belt. He was distracted enough already to step on a branch, letting out a sharp snap, which had her spinning and nocking and arrow at the same time.

And then her crystal blue eyes made everything go right back to static.

When she saw it was a human she lowered the arrow, but didn't lessen the draw on the bow. "Who are you?" She asked, pleasantly enough.

"I'm um, Dr. Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI." He pulled out his badge. "I'm kind of lost…"

Her eyes widened at the sight of the badge, and her jaw dropped. She eased back on the bow and came over to take a look, giving him a chance to take in those bright, intelligent eyes, rosy, bee stung lips, and a very pretty face surrounding it all. "Wow, you  _are_  a long way from home. I never thought…" She grinned hugely at him and turned and called over her shoulder. "It's okay, he's a Healer. He's from the Other Place!"

That call brought her companion out into view. It was rare that Spencer met anyone taller than he was, but her companion topped him by a good two inches or more. He was also built along Morgan's lines, muscle and lots of it. Like her he was in his mid-20's and was wearing a blue, loose, coarsely woven vest over a knit shirt and canvas trousers in neutral colors, and like her he was wearing a kerchief, but his was indigo blue. He also had those clear blue eyes, and a similar facial structure. Genetic similarity, Spencer realized; siblings were the most likely option. "Wow. Welcome." He called back, also clearly impressed. He went back to working on something buried in the ground. "But where's his team?"

The girl turned back to Spencer, blinking. "Good point. Where is your Guardian, or the rest of your team?"

Guardian. Clearly I'm supposed to know how that word relates, he thought. Team I can manage though. "Um, I don't know." He answered honestly.

"Oh." She looked crestfallen, as if this was an awful circumstance. But even as she did he could feel some kind of spark between them. She really was very pretty, amazing eyes. For a moment he expected her to volunteer something. "I'm sorry. We can help you look for them."

"That would be very helpful, thank you." If he wasn't so lost here…

"You're welcome. If it doesn't look like we're going to find them by nightfall we'll head back to the abbey. There's lots of room and I'm sure Mother Abbot will assign you a new Guardian until yours is found."

Just then the male let out a groan and toppled over onto his backside. They hurried over only to find him clutching an impressively large root. "Ginseng?" Spencer asked.

"Golden root. And this one will last us a while." He got to his feet and dusted off, then kicked the dirt back into the hole to fill it, and cover the seed pods he dropped there. "Let me grab the collecting basket and we'll start to look."

"Did you get everything you need?" She asked.

"No, but we can come back out tomorrow." He replied as he shot her a teasing grin. "That way you have to come back out with me."

She shot him an evil look before she turned and started walking.

The basket was back in the direction of the river. As soon as they stepped out of the bushes at the edge of the gorge he spotted a familiar figure on the other side. "Reid?" She called. "Reid!"

"Emily!" He called back, waving his arms. Oh thank goodness, he wasn't alone.

"Is that your Guardian?" The girl asked.

Spencer thought fast. It was clear that they expected him to have one and that a Guardian and a Healer (he'd have to correct them at some point) were expected to remain in close proximity, and that if he didn't have a Guardian one would be assigned and he and Emily would lose all privacy. But if they had that relationship they might have more autonomy to travel and find a way home. "Yes." He replied.

"Oh excellent!" He looked over and saw that they were both beaming at him.

"Where are we?" Emily called.

"I don't know!"

"Tell her to head downstream to the first bridge." The girl said. "We have to cross to get to the abbey anyway, we can meet her there."

"Just tell her to stay on the path." The guy added. "She can't miss it."

He relayed the message, and they started walking downstream.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Hills above Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Spencer**

"So, were you on a plane-thing?" The girl darted along the path, climbing over roots and rocks, nimble as a deer. It was remarkably distracting to watch. "Well, I mean you couldn't have been. We would have heard it hit the ground. So, were you on a boat then?"

"No, I was on a plane." Spencer told her. "I don't know how I got here. Does this sort of thing happen a lot?"

"Um, I don't know. The last one was…seven…"

"Eight." The guy corrected her. He was coming along a bit behind, carrying a large basket he'd been using to collect greenery all day. Collecting medicinal herbs, Spencer guessed.

"Eight years ago. Well before we got here. But the last Healer was, oh, sixty years ago?"

"Sixty-two," the guy corrected again.

"Yeah, he was on this big plane-thing that flew into one of the mountains. He didn't survive, unfortunately. His Guardian lived a few days though. They're buried in the abbey cemetery."

"A whole plane came here?" They had been following the path, now it angled away from the river a bit, to get around some terrain.

"Yeah, there were fifty people…."

"Fifty-five."

"Fifty-five. And you can tell who's been spending all the time in the library."

"Well if you wouldn't spend all your time in the priory…" The guy pointed out.

"Yeah, how do you think I've been getting such high marks?"

She was carrying the weapon, spent all her time out of doors trying to get high marks in something, Spencer decided to hazard a guess. "So you're a Guardian then?" He asked as the path took them out of the woods and into a meadow.

"Yes," she beamed proudly.

"For all of six months now." Her companion pointed out.

He grinned. Ah, the excitement of a trainee. "I never did catch your name by the way."

"Oh, I'm Kira. That's my brother Andrew." She turned to indicate behind her, and took a deep, suddenly panicked breath. "Flyers! Run!"

Spencer turned to look and the static hit him again. There were two boxy, floating vehicles coming smoothly down the hillside at them. The engineer part of his mind told him that they must be using some kind of electromagnet levitation system, but whatever it was it had to be eons ahead of what was currently in production. Then the cop part of his brain started shrieking that Kira and Andrew were running for cover which meant they were some kind of threat and they were approaching  _really fast_. But just as he turned to start running something heavy tackled him and pinned him to the ground.

Mental note, Kira tackles like Morgan.

By the time he got his bearings again she'd dragged him under an outcropping of rock. "Maybe they didn't see us." She said as she held him there. "Maybe they won't double back." But as they watched the two flying machines floated down the mountain, executed impossibly graceful turns, and came back their way. "Oh damn it, they did!" She sounded like she was about to cry.

"Who are they? What do they want?"

"Flyers from the City. They want people. Us. They never come up into the mountains!" She buried her head in his shoulder and let out a long, shaky breath. "I think Andrew made it to the trees, they can't follow him in there. I'm going to distract them."

"How?"

"I'm going to try to make it to the far woods. Once they're following me make it to the tree line and then go find your Guardian at the bridge. Andrew will head that way. If I make it I'll head back to the abbey when it's clear."

"And if you don't?"

For a moment she looked at him, and she was so impossibly sad and so very afraid. "Then I'll see you next year."

"What?" They'd take her somewhere for a year? "Why?"

"Just make sure you tell Andrew I got away. He'll come after me and I can't risk letting them take him, he's a Healer now, there aren't that many male Healers, he's too valuable. Just…" She buried her head in his shoulder again. "...when he realizes that I'm gone, tell him that I expect him to work very hard, he has to train a good Healer for me for when I get back." She turned her head as the thrumming got louder, indicating that the search pattern was getting closer. "Now stay here, you'll be safe." With that she leaned in, pressed a shaky kiss to his lips that set off fireworks in his head and took off running out from under the shelter of the rock, launching an arrow into the sky as she went to get their attention.

Alone, he thought, she's going alone and she's terrified. But she's more terrified at the thought of their community losing a Healer, and anyone with the title Healer has to be valuable and she already knows she's going to need medical treatment when she gets back. She's sacrificing herself to something awful for the good of her people. She shouldn't have to do that alone. And there is Emily to come find us. Emily will not stop. And I'm an FBI agent damn it and I'm not that kind of doctor.

He took off after her, her red kerchief easy to spot as she ran. She wasn't running all that fast, giving them ample time to track her, and giving him ample time to catch up. Just as he did she shot off another arrow, clearly trying to goad them into following her. Well we can do better than that, he thought, and he pulled out his gun and fired off a round at the nearest one.

"What are you doing?" She shrieked.

"Going with you!" He replied.

They turned to run for the nearest copse of trees but just as they did another flyer rose up from behind the copse. This left them effectively surrounded, out in the open, nowhere to hide.

They were trapped.

He fired a round at the nearest one, only to see it spark off the metal. He tried again and hit the glass but it nearly ricocheted back at him. Firing on them was useless. Damn it!

"Leave everything you want to see again!" She yelled at him over the increasingly loud humming as she dropped her bow and her quiver. "Andrew will take care of it for us!"

Everything? She was divesting herself of all her valuables so it must be real. He threw down his revolver, followed quickly by his badge which probably meant little here and the five year NA coin that never left his pocket. His glasses followed, but he kept his contact lens case just in case. Then with one last look at the lack of signal he dropped his phone on the pile. Emily, Emily, please come, he thought as he looked back toward the river. Please come find us. I can't let her go alone, but please.

He felt something sharp hit the back of his neck, and a moment later the blackness overtook him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

**Spencer**

"I was right behind you." Emily said her voice sounding like she was near to tears. "I missed you by seconds."

"It's all right." Spencer replied as he got up to hug her tight. "I'm here now. I'm pretty sure you came after me and got me out of there."

"Yeah, I think I did. I just wish you didn't have to go through that."

"I survived." He replied, and in that moment he knew he had, and he would.

"And it's good you did." Dave pointed out. "Or there would be no one here to eat my lasagna. Let's eat while we talk."

Eventually they settled, with Spencer nervously eying his slab. "Just try it." Emily encouraged.

"Yeah, it's Rossi's." Penelope added. "You know it's going to be fab."

"I honestly keep expecting things to smell wonderful and turn out to be spoiled or rotted." Spencer murmured. But they were all eating it, so he mustered up the courage and took a bite. Then another. And another…..

"Okay, so how do we know this is all real?" Penelope asked.

"For one thing Emily and I ran a cognitive last night." Dave replied. "Their stories corroborate, every detail, right down to the number of shots he got off."

"Yeah, why did you stop shooting?" Emily asked.

"I couldn't penetrate the hulls of the flyers, and my last shot ricocheted back and nearly hit me. It seemed too dangerous to continue without a biological target." He was beginning to find that he remembered things without actively remembering them. "I believe those were actually drones being piloted at a distance, there were no crews to hit or even threaten."

"Oh, great," Emily replied.

"Why did they go after you?" Penelope asked.

Spencer thought for a long moment. "Are we assuming all this is real?"

"Until proven otherwise," Dave said. "Does that make a difference?"

"A difference between schizoid hallucinations and traumatic flashbacks and nightmares, so, yes." Spencer replied.

"Which is better?" Emily asked gently.

"Jury is still out." He looked over at Dave. "Why are we assuming this is real?"

Dave looked into his wine. "Ever hear of Northwest Orient Airlines Flight 2501?"

"Yes." Spencer replied. "It disappeared in the Michigan Triangle on June 23, 1950."

"Michigan Triangle?" Penelope asked.

"Like the Bermuda one only over the lake." Emily replied.

"There was a US Marshall on board." Dave said. "He was escorting a dentist into Witness Protection."

Spencer just blinked at him a moment, "A Healer and his Guardian."

Emily nodded. "I remembered his name and even his badge number under the cognitive. They kept his badge, weapon and paperwork in the abbey archives, Andrew showed them to me. I don't have your memory, Reid, there's no way I could have known that from before."

Penelope's eyes were wide, "Jinkies."

For a moment Spencer found himself getting lost in the physics of it all. "Hey." Dave reached over and got his attention. "Eat first, do science later."

Right. "Ahem. Well in that case I think for our group as a whole it was a case of wrong place, wrong time. Um, without going into details I'm…really not ready to talk about yet…"

"That's okay." Dave said.

"…the system we were involved with required a regular turnover of new faces…."

"Andrew said something about it being the time of year for that sort of thing in their quadrant." Emily said.

Spencer nodded. "…which means they had to reach a certain quota of bodies from each quadrant. I don't know how else they would acquire bodies…"

"Oh, I know this." Emily said, her eyes going distant with memories as well. "Oh, I can't remember, but I know this. I remember being so pissed about it all. There was a political component to it, I know that much."

"Disappearances are a common way for a corrupt government to control the population." Dave pointed out. "It was a very popular technique under Stalin, Pinochet, Hussein, you name the dictator."

"But when that wasn't enough they would send out drones to collect people caught away from a population center." Spencer finished. "They said that the flyers never came up that high into the mountains, which was why they felt safe enough to only send out two people. But disappearances only work when there are no witnesses, the people down in the valley must have figured that out and stayed in groups so they had to try up there to fill the quota."

"I wonder why they didn't try in the mountains more often." Penelope wondered.

"Probably harder to navigate the drones up there." Dave said. "Higher risk, lower reward if the population was sparse."

"As for why I was specifically taken." Spencer took a deep breath. "I…volunteered."

"Why?" Penelope asked.

"Because I knew Kira was terrified and yet she was sacrificing herself for her brother and for the good of her people since her brother was a Healer. I don't think I ever quite figured out what that meant, but someone with the title of 'healer' is usually very valuable in the community. Valuable enough that they only went out with a Guardian…"

"A bodyguard," Emily remembered. "Like the Marshall."

"…but I'm not that kind of a doctor. And I…I thought it was the right thing to do to try to protect her as best I could." Spencer sagged a little, "Not that I remember doing all that much."

"The question is," Dave said, "If you had to do it again, knowing what you know now, would you?"

Spencer only had to think a moment. "Yes." He replied. "If nothing else no one should have to go through that alone."

Dave nodded. "Very good Agent Reid. Do you want to go any further tonight?"

"Um..." That was a good question. "Maybe, but I don't know how much."

"All right, finish your dinner and then we will."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**Cage 3-3-8**   
**Storage Facility 3**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Spencer**

Spencer woke to find himself barefoot and lying in a small, metal cell. The bottom was solid and sloped down to an uncovered drain in the center of the floor. The sides and the top were of metal grating. From the front you could look out into what he first thought was some kind of atrium or courtyard, the top, back and left sides had metal walls an inch or so past the grating, the right had about an inch separating it from another cell that had a wall beyond that, as if both of these cells had been tucked into a cubby on a bookshelf. There was a light panel high on the back wall, with a ventilation opening directly beneath it, a square opening in the wall beneath that, and a water pipe with a faucet ran down the back left corner. That was all. Spencer pressed himself against the front of the cage and saw that there were many such cages; he couldn't see the ground from here although it appeared that he was in the third row from the top. He also couldn't see any kind of catwalk, not below him or on the rows across from him. In fact he couldn't see any way up here at all. How... "Hello!" He called out of the cage. "Hello, is anyone there?"

Someone in the next cage groaned. "Don't bother." Kira said quietly. "There's no one out there to hear."

Thank god, he wasn't alone. "I can't try to get us out if I can't talk to them." He pointed out.

"We're in the Cages." She replied. "We're not getting out until they let us out. And they don't care what you have to say. When they don't like what they hear from you they spray your throat and take your voice away. I'm pretty sure any variation on why we should be let go is on the Do Not Like list."

Okay, this was starting to get scary. "What else do they do?"

She sighed. "Don't be surprised if they blind you..."

Spencer's heart stopped. "Blind me?"

"…the Healers can fix that. Yeah, they place these little caps over your eyeballs if they don't want you to see. The Healers can wash them out with water and salt, or they do that here if they want you to see again. And your voice comes back after a day."

Little caps, water and salt and your voice comes back. Right, contacts and saline solution and some kind of anesthetic. Spencer pulled the contact lens case out of his pocket and went to the faucet in the back corner to take his contacts out, just in case. "What else do they do?"

"A lot."

"Kira."

"We're not supposed to talk about it."

"Kira."

"It's a violation of privacy."

"Kira." It was his turn to sigh. "Look, I know a lot about how people think, how they react to certain experiences. If I know what's coming maybe I can help us get through it with the minimal amount of damage." With his lenses out it was blurry, but from down here on the floor he could see her form through the double grating. She was sitting, her legs crossed, rocking slightly, clearly more frightened than her calm tone let on. "What are they going to do to us?"

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

Spencer stopped. They were his friends, he knew they would understand, and he didn't have any reason to be ashamed anyway. But still, he didn't…

"You don't have to tell us right now." Dave said gently.

"No, I trust you guys. It's…" Spencer sighed. "Don't tell Morgan."

"Of course not," Penelope said. "No one can tell without your permission, it's a rule."

"Never," Emily agreed.

Dave nodded his agreement. "Now, you were taking your contacts out, she was talking….

* * *

**Cage 3-3-8**   
**Storage Facility 3**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

She sat and rocked for a long few moments, then… "Have you ever been with a partner?"

"What you mean like at work or…" It took it a moment to sink in. "No. No, I haven't. Why?"

"Neither have I." She admitted in a smaller voice.

He turned and looked out the front again. "But we're about to be?" Okay, Emily, any time now.

"Yeah."

"Just to be clear, you mean forced sex?"

"To begin with."

"To begin with?"

He could see her form nodding. "It gets…really bad."

Okay. "Why?"

"We never figured that out. The Missionaries never figured that part out, unless it was just to make people cage sick, so people back at home are warned somehow."

Spencer nodded, "Disappearances and torture as a control tactic. Keep in line or you're next. It's not an uncommon tactic. How long are people usually in the Cages?"

"A year." Kira replied. He could see her form turn to him. "You think you can help?"

"Maybe." Now he was becoming terrified. "How important is…is your first time to your people? You know, your first time with a partner. Is it something special or…"

"No, not really," she replied, "At least not when you join the Missionaries. You find a good friend and when you're both ready you just sort it out. What about for your people?"

"It's considerably more involved." But this didn't count, Spencer thought. Forced sex never counted against virginity, ever. With some effort he stopped his lecture on virginity in Western Civ. "I do know that being forced is nothing like settling your curiosity with a trusted friend; completely different experiences."

"How do you know, you've never done it either." At least Kira sounded like she had more life in her.

"Be-cause most of my friends have and I trust their judgment." Spencer looked around the room. "If I leave something in here…"

"You may not end up back in this same cage. Some of the people tried that. But when you're taken as a couple they keep you next to each other, sometimes they…."

He could feel how hard it was for her to finish. "Torture," he said gently. "It's important to be honest. The word is torture." But why? Why?

"…t…torture you together." She was quiet a moment. "And I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault. You told me to stay undercover, remember." He smiled a little, if only the other guys would have seen. "I volunteered."

"I know. That was very brave of you, you know. I still don't know why you did that."

"Because in my experience; Healers are important, and a local Healer more so than someone from far away."

"Then on Andrew's behalf I thank you." She said that rather formally. "That's not why I'm sorry though."

"Why then?"

"You seem nice." She replied. "I was going to invite you to a table for some cider tonight after supper. If your Guardian said it was okay, of course."

He smiled a little. "If that's the local equivalent of buying someone a drink I would have accepted." She was really pretty and easy to talk to. "If we'd met back in my home I would have asked you out for coffee."

"What's coffee?"

"Something very tasty." There was a clunking noise coming from the front of the cages. "What is that?"

She got up and quickly moved to the front to look out. "They're coming." She said, the fear back in her voice. "Just remember, the Healers will be able to help us after. Don't be too afraid."

"I won't be if you won't be." He placed his hand flat against the grating, suddenly wishing he could feel her warmth on his skin.

She placed her hand over his, but an inch of air separated them. "I won't be." She replied.

All of a sudden the hole in the middle of the floor clicked closed. The light went off, the vent system shut with a snap, and a door came down over the opening in the back wall. A lift mechanism stopped just outside his cage, and then the whole thing began to move smoothly forward. It's automated, he realized with sudden, true fear. It's all automated, there's no one here to profile.

"Stay strong!" Kira called after him.

But now he didn't know if he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those wanting to follow Spencer's memories of the event should look to the story associated with this one. You do NOT need to follow that one to follow this one, and it is rated MA and comes with trigger warnings.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

**Spencer**

"I, um, think that's a good place to stop." Spencer said at last. He'd said enough. He knew they were all perceptive enough to know exactly what he had been through, exactly what dreams and visions had been haunting him these past few days, why he couldn't sleep, why he kept wanting to scrub off his skin, why he ached all the time for no reason at all.

They were all quiet a moment, then Penelope spoke up. "Hey, Em, I think I saw some ice cream in the freezer. Come help me dish some up?" He wasn't looking, he couldn't really see anything but Kira's eyes, full of fear for herself and worry for him, but he got the sense that Emily was protesting without words behind him. Eventually he heard both women leave the room.

Everything was quiet for a time. He finally had a chance to consider, if all this was real, did that mean….what did that mean? What am I now, he wondered. How does this change everything, for everything has changed?

A steaming mug of something appeared in front of him. Tea. He wrapped his hands around it gratefully and looked up at last as Dave went and sat in the chair next to him. "You were right you know." He said kindly. "It is completely different."

"I know." Spencer replied. "If nothing else given the sheer amount of art and literature devoted to the subject it has to be."

"If you want to talk…"

"I don't…" No, he did. Not in great detail, not now, but…. "I couldn't help her. I couldn't do enough to help her, at least not physically."

"Physically?"

"There was something I did; I just…I don't remember what but I know it mattered a lot to her. I just…I…I tried to talk her through it, to help her process. I figured if nothing else I could help her find some perspective that would make recovery after easier." Heh. "For both of us."

"Healer, heal thyself." Dave had his own mug. "Still think its schizophrenia?"

"If we're still working with the theory that this is all real?" It felt real, that was the problem. It all felt very, very real. "No." No, assuming it was real he was showing enough symptoms for this to be classified as Rape Trauma Syndrome. Granted some symptoms didn't fit, but enough did…. "I analyzed this, as it was happening. Well, more or less. I had a diagnosis, but I can't remember…"

"If talking will help, I'll listen. Any of us will."

"Thank you." No, he wasn't ready to talk about the details yet. "Don't tell Morgan."

"Why not?" Dave asked. "You know he'd be as good a listener as the rest of us."

"Not really." Spencer replied.

"Why not?"

Because you weren't there for the Buford case. "As Kira put, it that would be a violation of privacy."

"Ah." Dave settled back in his chair. "That explains a few things."

Does it? Spencer wondered. Then, "What are we going to tell Hotch?"

"Leave Aaron up to me," Dave replied. "The question is, do you think you can work?"

"Yes."

"Sure?"

"It's more of a break, being able to focus on something else for a while."

"Fair enough, but remember, you're walking wounded right now, even if no one can see it. If there's a chance that a scene or a witness is going to trigger something then stay at the station."

"All right," Spencer sipped his tea, something herbal that seemed to be helping. "It was deliberate." He realized it as he said it.

"What was?"

"The inability to help her; it was a deliberate demoralizing tactic on the part of the people running the system."

"To control the population?"

"Partially, but…" Oh that, that was a hard thing.

"But?"

**Emily**

"Okay, look, I know what you're thinking." Penelope said as soon as they were in the kitchen.

Emily sank into one of the stools at the island. "How? I don't know what I'm thinking."

"Yes, but I know you and I work with families whose relatives were victims of violent crimes, so I know you just want to rush in there and make it better. You want to fix it somehow."

"I do." She was right. "I have to. It's my responsibility."

"No." Penelope came over and took both her hands. "No, it's not your fault."

"I know, I know. That's not what I'm saying. But I'm responsible for helping him. I promised them I wouldn't let him die."

"He's not going to die!" Penelope smiled a little. "Who said that you were responsible?"

"Reka and Andrew."

* * *

**Loading Platform 27**   
**City Gateway 9**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

" _We have to." Emily said, staring at the column of fog that rose straight off the damp field by the station, straight up into the sky. There was no guarantee that it was a portal, but they had to try._

" _Emily." Andrew said patiently. "He's not well, he's already showing symptoms. If you leave now he won't make it. Let us help him and when he's stronger we'll find you a way home."_

" _If one shows up! It could be another sixty years! We have to try!"_

" _You take him now, it's your responsibility." Reka pointed out. "You know that, Guardian."_

" _I know, and I won't let him down, I promise you. But I have to try to get us back. I have to try. Reid…" He was standing there, holding Kira as much as she was holding him his hands wrapped around the back of her neck, his forehead against hers. "Come on, we have to try to get back."_

" _I know," was all he managed to say before he pressed a kiss to her temple._

" _She'll be all right, they'll look after her. We have to try. Come on." She started tugging him toward the fog._

" _I love you." She heard Kira say, before Spencer finally let go and let Emily drag him._

" _Emily!" Andrew called after her._

_She turned to take one last look at the group. "I'm sorry!" She called before turning back. "I'm so sorry."_

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

**"Why were** they afraid he was going to die?" Penelope asked.

"Cage sickness."

"What's that?"

"I don't…I don't know. But they said it was lethal if not treated. That's what's been freaking me out; he's showing the symptoms they described." Screw this. She got up and headed back toward the living room.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

**Emily**

"Cage sickness," Emily said as she went back into the living room.

"What?" Rossi asked.

"Cage sickness. Andrew was a Healer, remember, that's what they treated. They worked with survivors of the Cages, treating them for some kind of sickness they caught there. He said it was lethal if not treated. And you are showing all the symptoms." She said, pointing to Spencer. "Don't ask me how I know I just do."

"I'm not dying." Spencer told her, quite calmly. "I remember Kira talking about it, and I…I know I came up with a diagnosis. I know I knew this, I just can't remember."

"Welcome to our world." Dave said to him.

"If he caught it there wouldn't we all have it by now?" Penelope asked.

"No, it's not a pathogen." Spencer replied. "It might be some sort of poisoning. Why can't I remember?"

"Too many traumatic memories in the way," Dave said, gently. "But if we're right then Emily, you were around people who were treating it; maybe we can figure it out from what you remember."

She sat, eagerly. "Let's go."

"All right, you're on the side of a hill, in the woods. It's a lovely day. You're talking with Andrew…"

* * *

**Hills above Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

"So you're a Healer?" Emily asked as they hiked down the hill, the river to their right. It was beautiful here. If only she wasn't so afraid for Reid. If only she wasn't so afraid.

"Yes." Andrew replied, a little shy. "I actually planned on training for a Guardian, but during my first year Mother Abbot began noticing that I had the gift for healing. Male Healers like me are kind of rare so she talked me into changing over. Granted it's a little soon to call myself a true Healer, I've been studying for all of six months now."

"Intern, huh?" Emily chuckled. "Like you?"

He actually turned red around the ears, "Who can work with women. Most male healers only work with other men, or don't have the right kind of gifts to work directly with female patients."

Ah. "Why did you come here?"

"My father is a member of the state church; it worships what we call the Dark One. My mother was taken. When she was brought back he insisted we do what the pastor told us to do, pretend nothing happened, not get her any help. We weren't even supposed to talk about it." He was quiet a moment. "She didn't make it. I found her body when I went out to work the farm one morning."

Oh god. And now his sister was going through the same ordeal. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." He clambered over a small, fallen tree, helped her over it. "It was all so stupid and so wrong. The next time the Síochánta Missionaries came through town Kira and I defied our father and the state priests and came back here with them. She was going to try for Healer, but we ended up switching paths."

"And what do you heal?"

"The sickness."

"What sickness?"

"The one people get in The Cages."

They reached the bridge. Emily hadn't realized just how beautiful it was, perched over a rushing waterfall of a place. If Spencer had been at her side and Kira at her brother's, she was sure they would have stopped for a moment to savor a sweet summer afternoon in a place so very new. "And you think they've been taken to these Cages?"

Andrew nodded. "That's the only reason why the flyers take people."

Emily considered this. All she could think was that he'd been taken by an Unsub. No, by a group of Unsubs, for some purpose she did not yet understand. For a long time they walked and she tried really hard not to let her mind go there, but it was impossible. It was easy, out here in these beautiful woods. But eventually they came around the hill and there was a cluster of buildings down below. She looked down at the cluster of buildings, carefully hidden away in the foothills. It had a familiar pattern...yes, it did look a lot like a small abbey, she could see it now. "Cage sickness?" She asked at last.

"That's what we call it." Andrew replied. "People come back with it after they're taken."

"And then they come here for treatment?" Crap, just what she needed, Spencer sick on top of everything. But if she could get him medical help right away maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

"Some."

"So not everyone comes here?"

"No. Only the brave ones come here. The Priests of the Dark One teach that when someone is returned from the Cages the only correct response is to pretend nothing happened; to just go back to work like that person had never been gone. It doesn't work, they just get sicker. Just like Mom." Andrew sighed. "The brave ones defy the Priests. They acknowledge that their loved one is sick through no fault of their own and do what they can to help. And, if they're lucky, they cross paths with one of our Missionary teams and they bring them to us for healing. If they're from the villages, that can mean having to leave your extended family, your home, farmland, everything. In the Below they have to find their way out first." He shook his head. "We don't get many survivors from Below."

They had been steadily walking closer to the cluster of buildings. Now they could see people going about their lives. Emily watched the small hive of activity. The hillsides nearest the abbey had been carefully contour planted, and were being tended by workers in the cool afternoon air. In one courtyard people, probably what he called Guardians, seemed to have gathered around a sparring ring. In another fewer people seemed to wander aimlessly. "Survivors?" She asked

Andrew looked away, sadness in his eyes. "The ones who don't come here wander off to die, like my mother. Or they die in their sleep, or they take their own life."

Emily turned in horror. "That's not going to happen!"

Andrew shook his head. "No, it won't. Once they come here they almost never die, and if they do it was because they were somehow sick before they went in. If he was healthy…"

"He is."

"Then we'll be able to help. At worst he may be too fragile to go back out into the world…."

"He won't be."

"Emily…"

"He won't be!" She insisted; the panic rising in her chest again. "He'll be fine, he has to be!"

No matter how much she panicked he stayed calm, giving off this air of gentle patience. Is that his gift, she thought, to be that calm and serene no matter what he heard or saw? Isn't that how Spencer is?

"We'll help him." Andrew repeated. "He seemed strong when we spoke to him. And he's a Healer; he might be able to help himself along the way." He looked away, the only sign of his own pain. "Maybe he can even keep Kira from getting as sick as she might."

"I know he'll try." That much Emily knew. If anything could be done Spencer would do it.

"Good." As sad and worried as he was Andrew's smile brightened the day.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**Hills above Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Emily**

"So what is Cage Sickness?" Emily asked as they walked closer. "I mean, what are the symptoms?"

"Well, usually people show up looking fine and healthy." Andrew replied. "But they start showing problems right away. They can't eat. They become sick in the stomach at the thought of eating, vomit when they smell food. They can't void waste anymore, which doesn't help. They can't sleep, they sit up all night and when they do drift off they have nightmares. They can't be touched, any contact, human or animal makes them pull away. They scrub themselves raw over and over. They're afraid all the time, sometimes they panic at nothing at all. Sometimes they stare off into space, and they hear things and see things that aren't there. They hurt for no reason; they say their bodies hurt all the time. And sometimes they just sit and cry."

"And all the while everyone around them is going on about their business, pretending everything is normal." Emily nodded. "That's what we call crazy-making."

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

**Spencer**

"Hold up." Dave said. He looked over to where Penelope was taking notes and Spencer was watching. "Okay, we have a list of symptoms. How many are we talking?"

Spencer thought for a moment. "Six out of the nine he listed." He sighed, that was enough for a diagnosis for just about anything.

"But seven of these are probably just reacting to the trauma." Penelope pointed out. "Is human contact one of them?"

"No." Just the opposite Spencer thought.

"Good." And with that she reached up and tugged his head down to her shoulder.

* * *

**Cage 3-3-8**   
**Storage Facility 3**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

" _I miss girls." Spencer said._

_He was lying on his back in his cage, pressed up against the right hand wall, staring at the metal ceiling above him. In a metal cage in a metal cage, he thought, reflecting dismally on the constant ache of the heavy weight. He was battered and sore and aching, they had only healed the most dangerous damage. And his heart was aching after days on end of nothing but hard metal and rough, cruel men. He missed the women in his life, he missed Emily's deadpan snark, he missed JJ's efficient care, and he missed Garcia's big, tight hugs. His missed his mother. She must be so worried, he thought, I haven't written her in I don't know how long. I may never write her again. She may have lost me._

" _I'm a girl." Kira pointed out._

" _Yes, but you're all the way over there." Over there was precisely one inch. One impossible inch, so close and yet impossible to bridge. He could see the blurred outline of her features, the crystal of her eyes, the richness of her lips, the soft curves of her body. What he wouldn't give to just pull her into his arms and hold her, just to feel her against him. "I think I'm turning you into a teddy bear in my head."_

" _What's a teddy bear?"_

" _A child's toy, it's made out of cloth or fur and stuffed with cotton or wool."_

" _Ahhh, a cuddler."_

" _That name fits."_

_He could see her smile. "I will gladly be your cuddler if you will be mine."_

_It was his turn to smile, "Even though I'm male?"_

" _Yes, but you're a very gentle male. I don't think I could cuddle anyone else right now."_

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

"Hey." Penelope reached up and tugged on his hair gently. "Come back here with us."

"The question on the table is how is your stomach?" Dave asked. "Lower stomach."

Good question. Spencer thought a moment. "Fine. As in fine, but some of the things I'd really rather not talk about yet could cause those kinds of problems if exposed to them over enough time. I don't think I was in there long enough for it to become a problem. That said, without ongoing medical support I would expect anyone who had been in there for the full year to run into lethal complications within two weeks of release."

Emily let out a big, shaky sigh. "Now I'm really glad I went after you."

"Okay, but why haven't you been eating?" Penelope asked.

"It's  _meat_." He replied. "I can't stand the smell of it anymore; it kind of freaks me out. And I know why I just can't remember." He sighed hard. "I've been trying to test the waters with everything else though."

"Here," Dave got up and headed off to another room. He came back with a very nice notebook. "If you're not ready to talk about it then write it out. That might help you remember. Now you didn't have a problem with my lasagna."

"No, but you couldn't taste the meat, really, just the sauce and the cheese. It was very good by the way."

"Thank you."

Emily gasped. "They were vegetarians!" She suddenly remembered. "All of them, they didn't allow meat on the grounds. I thought it was philosophical."

"But it might have been therapeutic." Dave pointed out. "I don't care what a priest says, if someone you love is missing for a long time the first thing you do when he gets back is cook his favorite meal. I still remember the manicotti my Nonna made me when I got back from 'Nam. Best I ever ate. It sounds like a rural area, I'd bet those meals usually involved butchering and roasting an animal."

"And as soon as the meat went over the fire they'd panic and get sick." Just the thought of it was making his heart start to pound. Penelope must have felt it, she put her arm around him and held him until he calmed again.

"That would automatically cause disruption in the family; starting the whole negative cycle." Dave nodded. "They got around it by not exposing people to the stressor until they were ready, by not cooking meat. It makes sense. But that is psychological, not physiological."

"It was! I just can't remember it. I recognized it while it was happening but…"

"That's all right." Dave said calmly. "Tomorrow we'll start sorting out what you can eat. Although I am beginning to make sense of this 'abbey'."

"It was a treatment center!" Emily said, her eyes distant with memory. "We would call it residential psychiatric care. Holistic care. Only the terminology was different, they used a mixture of religious and physiological terminology to describe everything. Andrew was one of the therapists!"

"And his sister was one of the security staff." Dave nodded. "Now we're getting somewhere. Do you remember what kind of treatments they used?"

"Um, a lot of herbal stuff. A lot of therapy. A vegetarian diet. They had a hot springs on site and a bath house. I think they used massage therapy. Um…." Emily's eyes grew wider as she remembered something.

"What?" Penelope asked.

"Um…" She turned pink, took a deep breath, and continued. "They also practiced sex therapy, including the use of surrogates."

"So they weren't cloistered religious like we have cloistered religious." Dave smiled just a little. "That doesn't go along with a vow of chastity."

"So if there wasn't a vow of chastity involved did you and Andrew….?" Penelope had to ask.

Emily huffed. "With Reid and his sister missing? God no."

"Would you have, once they were back and safe?"

Emily opened her mouth but just closed it again, prompting Penelope's laughter. "We never had the chance." Emily admitted. "On the way back to the abbey we spotted what they called a portal, I had to give it a try to see if we could get back." She shrugged. "It worked."

"Thank you." Spencer said from where he was still pillowed on Penelope's shoulder.

"Really?" Emily asked him.

He nodded, "For Mom and Henry, for starters." If she hadn't taken the gamble he might never have seen them again.

"The point is." Dave dragged the conversation back to where they started. "Sex therapy aside there isn't anything they did there that we can't do here. If you want to avoid pharmaceuticals…"

"I do." Spencer really didn't want to try drugs, not now.

"Then I can go by the health food store tomorrow and see what kind of teas they have that might help." Penelope said. "And I'll come help you figure out what you can eat, and I bet Rossi's guest room tub will float a rowboat."

"And I'll keep seeing if I can remember anything else." Emily said.

Not just friends, Spencer thought, this is my family. "Thank you. All of you."

"Just get better." Dave said. "You're welcome."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #10**

**Emily**

By the time they figured out exactly what was wrong it was late, pushing toward very late. "Okay, I have guest rooms." Dave said. "Who's staying? Reid, you are."

"Why?" Spencer asked. "I'm not falling apart; I can take care of myself."

"You can but you don't have to. Let one of us stay within shouting distance for a while. Besides, I'm using the excuse to get some meat on your bones. What about you two ladies?"

"I am." Emily said. She could admit it, if only to herself, she didn't want to leave Reid, well, anywhere. A Guardian should stick by her Healer after all.

"I'm not." Penelope said.

"Sure?" Dave asked. "I have the room."

Penelope just shook her head. "Thank you but I have worked with people trying to recover from bad stuff for a while now and one thing I know is that you can't help anyone if you burn out. So I need some take care of me time tonight, I need my own bed and my own pj's and my own books and things. But, I will be back tomorrow to help out."

"Going to stop at the store on the way?"

"Whole Foods."

"I'll send a list and cover it."

"That I can do." Penelope gave Emily a tight hug, and then gave Spencer an even tighter and longer one. "You two take care of yourselves and each other, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Emily teased.

"Heh. I'll see you both tomorrow." And with that Penelope was out.

"Okay, guest rooms are at the top of the back stairs. Reid, you get the one on the left, Emily you get the right. Breakfast at 8, first one in the kitchen starts the coffee pot. Make yourselves at home; I'm going to go to bed. Good night." And with that Dave was out too.

"Are you going to be able to sleep?" Emily asked Spencer.

"I don't know." Spencer admitted. "At least I know what it is now, in a way that helps."

"I bet." For all the horror it had to be at least a little better to know that it wasn't insanity, it was memory. On the other hand it was _memory_. "Hey, come here for a minute." The room Rossi assigned her to was pleasant without being overly fancy, the kind of room you'd expect a couple to use. She dropped her go-bag on the bed and started rooting. "Now that I know what you've been doing…"

"What have I been doing?"

"Scrubbing your skin off."

For a moment his careful mask fell, and she saw the hollow desperation that had been haunting his nights. "I can't get them off." He admitted, his eyes not seeing her. "I keep waking up feeling what they…left on my skin. They never washed it off right away."

She knew he found comfort in the distance analysis brought, that a bit of cool space would help him. "That was part of the breaking process." She pointed out, "Here," she lightly tossed a tube of verbena scented lotion at him. "It's pretty unisex. See if it helps. If nothing else it should help your skin."

"Thanks." Spencer started looking at her again. "Thank you. You…saved me you know."

Emily smiled, suddenly embarrassed. "Well, that's what a good Guardian does. Now go. I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

**Spencer**

Once out of the shower and with his skin smelling of light, spicy citrus Spencer looked around the room he was given and smiled. It was clearly meant for Dave's nephew when he came to visit. While it didn't scream young boy it was designed with one in mind, the furniture was sturdy, the bedding easily washable, the pictures were actually animation gels. But most of all there was a comfortably large teddy bear sitting right in the middle of the pillows. The shaggy sort of ultra soft bear just meant for cuddling.

_I will gladly be your cuddler if you will be mine._

For a moment he debated calling the bear Kira and tying the red bandanna in his bag around its neck. No, he thought, that would be rather pathetic. Instead he dug his writing kit out of his satchel.

All the while the bear looked at him.

The room came with a student desk, complete with lamp, which was entirely perfect for this task. The notebook Rossi gave him was the kind of thing that would work perfectly with a fountain pen. Settled, warm and comfortable he started to write, fully intending to write until he could finally sleep.

And the bear kept calling to him.

He sat there, his pen hovering over the page for the longest moment. No one will see me, he thought, and the only ones here are Emily and Dave and they would understand and not say anything.

Fuck it.

He went and grabbed the bear, stuck it on the desk next to the lamp. Then he dug the red bandanna out of his satchel and tied it around the bear's neck. It was silly, but it was a comfort. I can write our story, he thought, so long as it's our story, not just mine.

He bent over the notebook and started writing.

* * *

**Studio 3**   
**Program facility 3**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**

**Then**

" _Don't let go!"_

_Kira's head was nestled into the crook of his shoulder. He strained to get one inch closer. One half inch. Anything. But the angle was awkward and the opening barely wider than a very slender neck and as skinny as he was he could only reach so far._

" _Please don't let go."_

_He could hear the laughter on the other side of the screen, but he ignored them. He couldn't influence them anyway. All he could do was try to comfort the woman who was and was not in his arms as her tears rolled down his skin._

" _Hurts…."_

_Her voice was barely above a whisper, her angelic voice nearly gone from screaming._

" _I won't let go." He promised her. "I won't let go."_

_Then the world erupted in agony._

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

Spencer sat up in bed, barely stifling a scream. Something  _hurt_. Somehow he had been hurt, some kind of injury that had caused immense pain, physical, mental, and emotional. But what? Where?

As the adrenalin wore off he realized again just how tired he was, weary to the bone. There was time tomorrow for the what, surely. Right now he needed sleep. He needed warmth and comfort and to sleep until he woke in the daylight.

He looked over at the desk.

In the dim glow of the nightlight the bear looked back.

He sighed. "I don't think Dave's nephew will mind." He said to himself.

He fell asleep with the bear tucked under his chin.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part #3
> 
> Life has its dimensions in the mysterious.  
> \- Jesse Jackson

**Chapter 20**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

**Emily**

The next morning Emily woke to the smell of very good coffee.

The only dream she remembered from the night before involved the smell of burning wood, the crackle of the campfire, the feel of firm ground through her bedroll, and the amazing night sky above her, Big Sister hanging in the black velvet of the night, a complete and utter miracle. And then Reka started singing something, something soft and low and gentle, one of the abbey songs, although Emily didn't know how she knew that.

Today she was going to remember more.

And they would figure out what Spencer could eat without getting sick, and what they were going to tell Hotch, and what they were going to tell Morgan, which was an entire magnitude of harder, and what they were going to tell JJ who was the most practical among them and who would swear they were all delusional or something. There was no way any of that would be easy. But it would be figured out. That was part of her job, somehow.

"Good morning." She called out as she came down stairs. "What's for breakfast?'

"Oatmeal," Dave replied, "something healthy."

"Spencer awake yet?"

"He's not down."

But just then Spencer came down. He looked a bit less over scrubbed, and was wearing glasses instead of contacts and had skipped the tie, but otherwise was much the same. "You know, we're here as friends, not for work." Emily pointed out. "You can dress casual."

"This is casual." Spencer replied. He was carrying that notebook and looking more than a little unsettled. "Do you think it's plausible that the physical effects would linger even after we came back?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we came back in our own clothes, I don't think we were wearing them when we left that place, were we?"

"No. We were wearing clothing from the abbey. But I don't know what you're getting at."

"Egli è più di analisi in modo da non dover affrontare i suoi sentimenti." Dave said as he stirred the pot he had going.

"Good point." Emily agreed. She turned back to Spencer. "Skip the science and get to where you're going. We're all friends here, remember."

Spencer sighed. "Do you think our bodies actually went or just our…our…"

"Souls?" That was a good question. "We did disappear, that says bodies to me. Why?"

He took a deep breath. "Okay, this is going to sound deeply strange and it is very personal…"

"This is the place for both." Dave pointed out.

"Have you ever not noticed the obvious because it was too…traumatic to do so?"

"That is not uncommon." Dave pointed out. "Go there already."

"I didn't have to shave this morning."

"Some guys don't." Dave shrugged and took the pot off the heat. "Hell, I went with a beard to get out of having to do it twice a day."

"Yeah, I normally don't have to every day, but I haven't since we got back from Green Bay."

"You think they did that?"

"They did do something, I remember that much. Well, it wasn't really a 'they'…"

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

Spencer had a faraway look, like he was remembering something deeply frightening. "It was mostly an automated system; robots, machines, no one to profile. I mean you could profile the intent but…"

"But without the controllers there it wouldn't do you a lick of good." Dave nodded as he started bringing things to the counter. "And you think the effects are lingering?"

Spencer flushed. "I've never been the walking rug type but I think nothing below the eyebrows is unnatural, yes."

"Unless you like it that way," Dave pointed out as he brought over a small vat of oatmeal. "Unfortunately that doesn't make for very conclusive evidence."

All of a sudden Emily remembered something. It was just a flash of a picture, but it was so very vivid. "No, but I know something that might be. Reid, lift the back of your shirt."

"Not now." Dave said, "After breakfast." He looked at the paper lying there and sighed. "Which means I'm not going to get to the book review section, am I?"

"Are you in it?" Spencer asked.

"I think so."

Emily looked at Spencer and they both lunged for it.

* * *

Over breakfast they distracted themselves by peppering Dave with questions about the writing process, which cases he chose, why, how he made it work while protecting the identities of people. Breakfast itself was oatmeal cooked to perfection and laced with spices, cinnamon, ginger, allspice, and served with honey, maple sugar, dried fruit and toasted nuts, and even cream if it was wanted. Emily was deeply pleased when Spencer went back for seconds, and then a little more. Thank goodness.

But eventually the meal wore down, and they were having more coffee and okay, now they had to get back on track. "All right, what did you remember?" Dave asked.

"It was the end of my first full day there. Reka said she wanted to talk, privately. Apparently the place Guardians went to do that was in the bath house." She caught Reid's look. "Not like that. It felt a lot like a European type spa. We shared a pool, but when I started talking she told me to hush until the Healer got her patient into another part of the building. I had only seen patients at a distance so I looked and I noticed she had a mark on her back."

"An injury?" Dave asked. "Think back, what did you smell?"

Emily closed her eyes and tried to remember. Smell created the most potent memory but also the one that landed deepest in the subconscious. Digging that out first made all the rest more clear. "Sulfur. Hot mineral water. Herbs they kept in some of the pools. Candles being lit."

"Okay, now what did you see?"

"Two women, one was the Healer, they wore a kind of a uniform. The other must be the patient, she was draped in a towel; they were going in to some kind of treatment room. Her back was bare."

"What was the mark?"

Emily focused on it. "Ink. A tattoo. Some kind of square design."

"Did you ask about it?"

"No, the conversation went somewhere else right off." Emily opened her eyes and sighed.

Spencer was frowning. He quickly gathered his shirt and turned so they could look at his back. "See, that right there is why you're staying for a few days." Dave told him. "I can see your ribs. If I let you go home like that my Nonna would rise from her grave and smite me."

"No ink though." Emily said.

Dave was quiet a moment. "Ever hear of brass or stone rubbing?" He headed into another room.

"Yes." Spencer said, to no one's surprise. "It's a technique where a paper is laid down over an engraved stone or brass and then a soft medium, like wax or charcoal is rubbed over the surface. The Chinese actually invented…"

"Uhh, I get the point Reid." Emily stopped him

Dave came back with a small flashlight, a sheet of some kind of thin vellum and a stick of soft charcoal. "Long story," he said as he handed them to Emily. "Spencer, keep your muscles stiff and your back flat. There you go. Right there," he pointed to some pink marks on Spencer's back, and then held the flashlight so she could see that they formed some kind of scar. "Very, very gently. You said it was an automated system?" He asked Spencer

"Yes, why?"

While Emily laid the paper down and started rubbing very gently Dave went to fetch something from a cabinet. "I'm thinking that this, whatever it was, put you right back where it found you." He said. "Thankfully that happened to be in your clothing, because in the process it sucked back everything that belonged in that world, including the ink. But it couldn't undo the changes in your bodies that happened while you were gone, including the scar from the tat."

It only took a moment. It only took a moment for her heart to sink so far down into her chest. Because the design that came from her light rubbing was precisely the evidence she really hadn't wanted to find. When she was finished with it she held it up where the other two could see, her eyes wide.

It was a quick response code.

As she watched Spencer's eyes grew wide and wider, and he started shaking. He tried to sit and nearly missed the barstool on the first pass. "It was real." He said finally. "It really was. This isn't some sort of mass hysteria."

"It was real and it was your bodies that went, not just your souls." Dave pressed a small glass of very good scotch into Spencer's hand, the kind that didn't deserve to go down in a gulp like that. "It's going to be all right, you know." He said, reassuringly. "We'll get through this."

Emily wished she could be sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rossi said "He is over analyzing so he does not have to confront his feelings."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

**Emily**

Unfortunately before they could even start digging back into their memories her phone rang. "Yeah Garcia, you're on speaker."

"Hey. How's it going over there?" Penelope sounded both gentle and nervous.

"Good and not-so-good." Emily replied. "You missed the best oatmeal I've ever had. But…we also found some physical evidence that corroborates what we remember."

"You're kidding me."

"No. We'll show you when you get over here."

"That isn't going to be for a bit, which is the problem." Penelope told them. "Morgan is on his way over here. He's really worried and you know how he gets when he's really worried."

"Hang on Garcia." Emily looked over to where Spencer had drooped, his head almost to the counter. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I really don't want Morgan getting hurt over this."

"Being overly-sensitive to the reactions of others is a symptom, you know." Dave pointed out.

"I know. I know." Spencer groaned. "Garcia, I trust your judgment, but I am really not ready to talk about it."

"And he is just going to have to live with that." Penelope agreed. "Can he come over if he wants?"

Spencer seemed to consider a moment. "I guess so."

"He could always help with the interviews." Dave added.

"All right, I will handle it. Rossi, shoot me a grocery list?"

"Give me twenty."

Okay, you kids take care of each other." Penelope ordered. "I'll see you soon." With that she rang off.

Dave went off to take care of the grocery list, leaving Emily with a still shaken Spencer. "Are you okay?" She asked again, gently.

Spencer had been staring off into space, more or less, since they found the scar on his back. "Emily…please understand that getting us back here was the right thing to do. Mom is here, and I thought I missed Henry's birthday and the rest of the team and what we do…but if this is real then I left Kira back there and…"

"…And her brother and Reka and Merina and everyone else is back there. They'll take care of her and help her heal, just like we're helping you. She'll be okay."

He was quiet a moment. "It's more complicated than that."

"How?"

But he looked so lost and so horrified and so sad he just shook his head and didn't say anything. Finally he just reached out and tucked into a hug and he let her hold him for a long time.

* * *

**Penelope Garcia's apartment**   
**Mount Pleasant**   
**Washington DC**

**Penelope**

Penelope wandered around her apartment and fretted. She plumped the pillows on the sofa. She fiddled with a troll doll. She drank a glass of water. She re-stacked some magazines. Finally her doorbell rang. "Hey." She said to the man standing there.

"Hey." Derek Morgan said back. He stepped in, closing the door behind him.

"Want some coffee?"

"No, I don't want coffee. And I don't want cookies and I don't want soup. I want to know what's going on."

"Okay." She got him over to her counter, settled on the stools there. "The first thing you need to know is that right now everyone is safe and okay. I am not going to tell you where everyone is because you would just run over there and be really upset and try to take control and fix everything and that is so not what we need to do right now."

"Penelope." Morgan eyed her carefully. He knew, she realized. He knew but he didn't want to know. He really, really wanted her to make it not real. "What's going on?"

"Okay, there is a short version and a long, complicated version and I am going to give you the short version first so you can go run or drive fast or do whatever you need to do to get over…"

"Penelope."

She couldn't make it not real. It was real. Oh, but she hated to hurt any of her tribe. "He never saw their faces." She finally admitted. Morgan got up and started pacing the small apartment like a caged lion. "And they didn't leave any DNA. We can't go after them, there's nothing to go after."

Morgan paced and paced and finally threw the punch that had been building, right into the wall beside her bathroom door. "I'm gonna fix that." He said immediately. "Paint the wall."

"I've been thinking blue."

Morgan stopped and leaned over the counter, clearly holding himself in hard. "He's okay, he's…"

"He's with Emily. He's…well, you're never fine, not for a long time, but he's stable. He's hanging in there. He can still work…"

"Work?" Morgan sounded shocked at that.

Penelope nodded. "He never had the stomach flu." Morgan started pacing again. "When he was at Henry's party it had been less than 48 hours, he was still kind of in shock."

"But he went out on the case last week anyway."

"Of course. He's…Reid."

Morgan stopped, looked at her finally. "You said there was more to this?"

She nodded. "There is. But you need to get a handle on everything first, because it's a lot to take in."

"Yeah. I need to…I need to go to the gym or something."

"And I need to go get them groceries." She slid off the stool and went over to him. "Call me when you're done?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I will." He sounded so calm but he hugged her very tight.

* * *

**Whole Foods Market**   
**1440 P St NW**   
**Washington, DC**

Penelope was just getting into her car when Morgan got in next to her. He seemed marginally calmer, probably as a result of whatever made his knuckles bleed. "Who did you hit?" She asked carefully.

"The heavy bag over at the gym," he replied.

"Are you good? Because you know he needs really calm people right now."

"I'm good."

"Because you know, he analyzes things. That's how he keeps his distance while he figures things out."

"I'm good."

"And he's really not ready to talk about it. At all."

Morgan took a deep breath. "Penelope, I've been down this road…"

"I know. But he's not you. The things that would bother you won't be the things that bother him. And he won't react the way you would. And he needs the space to process in his way and you need to be able to give him that."

"And if you think I'm not you kick me and I'll step out."

Penelope nodded. "Okay, good. Now you know there's no way to get these guys, right? I mean they already figured that much out…"

"They?"

"Em and Rossi," she winced, would he be upset that he wasn't called in first?

No. "I did go to Rossi, what, day before yesterday? I said something was wrong with Reid."

"Spencer didn't want to hurt you. And Rossi went to Emily and it turns out she was kind of involved…that part is really complicated, but she was working on it with Rossi and then Spencer called me…."

"He called you?"

"He didn't remember it at first; he kind of blanked it out. But he really can't forget anything and he's been having all kinds of flashbacks and he thought…."

All of a sudden she saw Morgan get that part. "He thought he was hallucinating. Schizophrenia"

"Yeah, but then we talked to Emily and we realized he wasn't."

"Emily?"

"Let's drive back to my place, put the groceries in your truck, and I'll tell you on the way."

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

**Emily**

Everyone was a little nervous about Morgan showing up.

When Morgan and Garcia finally came in with the groceries Morgan just stood there looking at Spencer for a long moment, a mixture of concern, sadness, and oddly enough, pride on his face. After a moment, though, his face evened out. "You know what's bad about this?"

"What?" Spencer asked.

"I can't give you a hard time about meeting some hot little alien hunny. 'Cause you know, I would be…"

Thankfully Spencer proceeded to dissolve in laughter. "You know, she'd hit you for that."

"Uh-huh." Morgan was grinning. Hell, they were all grinning.

"She was something between a soldier and a professional bodyguard. She might have even done some damage."

"That I don't believe."

"Reka would have kicked your ass." Emily heard herself saying.

"Who is Reka anyway?" Dave asked. "No, wait. Morgan, the notes are there, you take Emily into the other room and start the next round of cognitive. Garcia, you get to go take notes. I'll get started cooking all this."

Right. Time to get back to work.

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

Like many abbeys Emily had seen this was less one building and more many smaller buildings linked by corridors and cloisters and covered walkways, all surrounded by a high, stone wall. But all the ones she had seen were historic sites or active houses used by the dominant religion. She'd never seen ones with guards before. "Expecting trouble?" She asked as she nodded to the two ceremonial-looking guards on either side of the gateway, resplendent in gaily decorated red wool capes and ornamented halberds, and the two archers at the top of the wall, the real guards of the place.

"Sometimes the priests of the Dark One goad young men into coming up to harass us." Andrew shook his head. "They make them believe it's some kind of test of manhood. It's stupid, really, but they have that much control over the villagers. We don't want to hurt anyone, but the safety of our patients is a primary responsibility."

"Understandable." He had turned away from the larger, more formal buildings, what looked like the church and what might have been the hospital section, and off toward one of the far corners, what would have been called the menial department, where the daily work was done. Sure enough, he turned into one large workshop where it looked like people were processing vegetation. He left his basket on one of the tables and went up to one of the workers. "Mother Abbot?"

Mother Abbot wore no mark of her rank, nothing to distinguish her from anyone else working there. Like about a third of the women working there she wore an embroidered blue kerchief over her hair and a blue tunic over canvass trousers and under a linen apron. But the eyes in her lined face were ancient, filled with gentle wisdom and compassion and a sharp snap of strength. "Andrew." She said, looking up from where she had been sorting herbs, comparing them to an identification book. "Who is this?"

"This is Emily. She's a Guardian from the Other Place."

Mother Abbot smiled. "Welcome to Tá Súil Abbey, Emily." She said with a formal nod that Emily returned. "Have you arrived with a Healer?"

"He was taken." Andrew told her. "Along with Kira, by the Flyers. She was on the other side of the river; she couldn't get to us in time."

"I tried." Emily admitted. "I just…" Seconds. Damn it, she missed them by seconds!

That got the attention of everyone in earshot. Mother Abbot nodded to another woman in blue who hurried out. "I am sorry." Mother Abbot said, her voice full of compassion. "She's a strong girl, she'll survive. And we will be there for her when she is returned."

Andrew sighed. "I know."

"Emily." Mother Abbot turned to her. "There is room in our priory. You are welcome to stay until your Healer is returned, and we will extend our care to him as well."

Emily hated doing it this way, but she saw no reason to conceal her intent. "I'm not waiting." She told Mother Abbot, respectfully but firmly. "I'm going after them."

Mother Abbot looked at her at that moment, studied her like she was weighing the plants in front of her. "That's not possible." She said after a long moment.

"I have to try." Emily replied. "I just need to know where I can get a horse." She was not going to give up on Spencer. Period.

Mother Abbot looked over at another woman, and then looked over Emily again. "It's late." She said at last. "Stay here tonight and we'll talk tomorrow."

Emily wanted to argue but the sun was starting to go down already. Her chances of getting anywhere in the dark were nil. "Yes, Ma'am." She said quietly.

"Andrew will show you the way to the priory. Again, I am sorry." With that they were clearly dismissed.

Once outside Andrew looked over at her. "See, I told you it wasn't possible."

But Emily shook her head. "Andrew, have you ever heard of the term 'profiler'?"

"No."

"It's what we do, Spencer and I. We try to figure out what people are going to do next based on the way they act, including reading their body language. Granted I'm not as good at it as Spencer, but I like to think I'm pretty good."

"So?"

"So there is a way to get them back. And Mother Abbot knows it."

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

"Wait. If there was a way to get them back, why didn't they?" Morgan stopped the interview to ask.

"Maybe it was too dangerous?" Penelope said.

"No, it was more than that." Spencer said. He'd been leaning against the wall between the living room and kitchen, listening avidly but still maintaining a certain distance. "It was systemic."

"What?" Morgan asked.

"We weren't being held by Unsubs." Spencer admitted. "It was way too big for that. I think we were being held by the government."

"We theorized that." Dave pointed out from the kitchen. "Disappearances and ruined families as a terror technique to control the population."

"In a way the Missionaries were rebels." Emily said. "Most people believed the lie that the government told."

"What lie?" Morgan asked.

"The disappearances were caused by divine influence. The Missionaries had figured out that it was actually the government behind it, but they didn't have the manpower or technology to confront the government directly. They couldn't even muster a decent guerrilla response."

"She didn't have the resources to stop it." Dave understood. "But religious organizations are in it for the long haul. I bet she had a plan going."

Spencer nodded in agreement. "With every family they helped their influence was growing. Slowly, but it was growing."

"How could they figure it out when no one else could?" Penelope asked.

"Technology." Emily smiled as she remembered. "The Missionaries were literate. Most of the villagers weren't. That let them keep and compare notes on events and people's behavior, and analyze the patterns over time."

"And yet those flyers were advanced technology." Dave pointed out. "So is that scar. How did that happen?"

"It was deliberate." Emily said. "They had broken their society down into three distinct groups, people in the Villages, people in the City and people Below. Andrew and Kira were Villagers; they grew up as farm kids."

"The way Kira explained it Villagers handled raw materials." Spencer agreed. "They were farmers, miners, fisherman, anything that took a lot of space or had to be done outdoors."

"So they were denied literacy and access to technology to prevent travel and communication." Dave nodded. "They had the recourses to raise a rebellion but no way to communicate to mobilize. Effective.

"I never met anyone from the City but from what I could tell they were the technocrats." Emily said.

Spencer looked down at his mug, away from them. "They were." He confirmed.

No one asked him to elaborate. "They had all the power and all the benefits from all the resources and were isolated from the others so there was no way for them to empathize." Emily went on.

"So there was no need for them to rebel." Morgan got it.

"The people in Below were the workers. They had factories down there, they turned the raw materials into finished goods, supplied the City above with its needs. They had some access to technology and were at least functionally literate but they were literally trapped. It was a closed system, they were locked in." Emily shook her head. "And it was a strictly currency based system down there, they were all kept too poor and malnourished to muster any sort of response."

"Okay, that place sounds horrible." Penelope said. "Did you see it?"

Emily nodded. "Yeah, I did. That's where they kept the Cages."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 24**

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Emily**

There wasn't much of the room to explore. There was a narrow bed along one wall, with a thick mattress stuffed with straw from the feel, and piled with warm blankets, a table with a rush-seat chair, a wardrobe with hooks on one side for hanging clothing and drawers and shelves on the other for storage and a mirror. Lighting seemed to be provided by candles in glass lanterns, probably to lower the risk of fire. A door at the back connected to a less primitive bathroom than Emily had feared, there was a flush toilet with a familiar wooden seat but of the old-fashioned gravity-fed kind with the tank up by the ceiling, and a pile of some soft vegetable matter to replace paper, and a cold-water sink which was also gravity fed. No facilities for bathing though, but everyone had smelled clean so that had to be handled somehow. Emily peeked through the other door but the room next to hers was as empty as hers had been.

A moment later there was a tap on the door and a round, red cheeked woman came in with a younger girl, both of whom had their arms full of cloth and other items. "Try the boots, Guardian." The woman said with a smile. "Leave the ones that don't fit outside the door for collection. And leave the basket out in the morning with your laundry. Welcome to Tá Súil." Emily opened her mouth to say hello, ask the woman her name, but they bustled out before she had the chance.

Right.

The boots were all leather, with hobnails in the soles for traction, and one pair fit quite comfortably. They came with thick socks to pad against blisters. They had also brought a couple of pairs of those canvas trousers and long, black skirt of the same material, some linen tunics in black and red and a dull, natural color, wool vests in black and red and a red wool cloak, unlike the others she had seen this one was unadorned. And there were a number of kerchiefs, all dyed in different designs, mostly red. Everyone she had seen had been wearing them, although they let their hair show, so she figured they were some cultural requirement and so she would start wearing them herself. As her mother had always said, when in Rome and all.

The soon-to-be-laundry basket revealed a bar of soap in its own box and a jar of some thick ointment that smelled of sweet herbs and probably passed for lotion, a comb, a couple of soft shifts that had to be nightwear, a sturdy kimono type robe, and a pair of flat, woven slippers, which spoke to a communal bath house somewhere. There were also six long lengths of thin cloth about a foot wide. These last two left her mystified.

Thankfully black and red had always been good colors for her. A quick peep out the door revealed two women going by in the long skirts so she figured people changed and dressed a bit for dinner here, not an uncommon custom. She changed into the black skirt and boots, the red tunic and a black vest over top, and tucked a kerchief around her hair. At the bottom of the basket she found a likely bag, leather with a tooled, almost Celtic pattern, and a long strap. It was long enough to hang across her body under the vest and a good size for holding her phone and badge, as well as Spencer's belongings.

For a moment she looked at his ID. He was so dammed young, even now. Damn it all to hell.

Thankfully the waistband of her skirt would support her belt and holster, and there was room in the bag for Spencer's revolver. Thus dressed she headed back toward the gate where they came in, not knowing how much time she had before the dinner bell. Her timing was good though, it didn't look like Andrew, resplendent in his own snowy white tunic and indigo vest with many silver buttons, had been waiting long. "Found everything you need then?" He asked.

"Yes, thank you." Emily replied. The corridor was busier than before, with people in various uniforms gathering in small knots, meeting up again after a day's work. A bell sounded, gentle and low and people started drifting in one direction. "This community is bigger than I expected."

"It's bigger than it should be. The flyers bring too much suffering out into the countryside. It's one thing to take our harvests, but what they do…" He sighed, pain and anger in his eyes.

"I agree. How come no one has fought back?"

"The village priesthood; they have the people convinced that being taken is the will of God. Helped by the fact that most people don't see the flyers, and the victims don't understand."

They had reached what Emily had assumed was the church, but it was actually a large hall, one with a high ceiling lined with windows to let in the dying light, and oil lights and a large fire at one end. The hall was full of short tables that were filling with groups, all helping themselves at a buffet lined against the front wall along the way. Andrew took her there first; there were warm rolls and creamy butter, bowls of cooked grains and platters heaped with delicately cooked vegetables and sweet fruits. But… "No meat?"

He shook his head. "No, we don't serve it here." Mugs of a cloudy liquid were acquired and he led her to a table off by one of the columns that held up the roof, a place that was a bit more private, "Easier to talk if we're out of traffic."

And easier to observe. Emily noticed couples here and there, and children. "You have families here?"

"Some. Usually families of patients, either current or former who decided to stay on, or the people who come to work here; they have houses by the fields but most people come in to share the evening meal with the community."

"Families of patients or workers, not Healers or Guardians?"

He actually flushed a little around the ears. "Healers and Guardians aren't allowed to take vows. We're supposed to be committed to our work; a family would have to come first."

She noticed several cases where Healers and Guardians were coupled; both hetero and homosexual couples were obvious. "Then…" She vaguely gestured toward the nearest one.

"That doesn't mean you can't fall in love." He said, still flushed. "Nearly everyone has a partner they prefer. But exclusive relationships don't work all that well."

"Ah."

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

"That hardly seems fair." Morgan said.

"Well, married to the work is a reality." Dave pointed out. "Look at all of us."

"Besides, I found out later that a number of them were also, um, surrogates." Emily explained.

"Okay, you all lost me." Morgan replied.

Emily caught Dave's eye. "Come help me." He said to Spencer, getting the younger man out of earshot, just in case.

"As I understood it one of their key beliefs was that people need a strong mind-body connection to be truly healthy, including a strong awareness of their sexuality." The more she talked the easier it was to remember. "While they didn't support promiscuity they didn't believe in asexuality or even celibacy. Everyone was encouraged to do something."

"Yeah, but victims of trauma like that usually have that mind-body connection broken." Penelope pointed out. "They're all up in their heads. I've seen victims not even realize they've broken a bone, they're so tuned out of their senses."

Emily nodded. "From what I could tell a big part of their therapy involved reconnecting the mind and body, including helping patients re-discover their sexuality."

"Okay, I can get with that but what do you mean by surrogate?" Morgan asked.

"Well, you can only go so far on your own." Emily just did not know how he was going to react. "And if a patient didn't have a committed partner a well-trained one would be provided if needed."

The look on Morgan's face as the light bulb went on and he started to process was priceless. "Was Andrew a surrogate?" Penelope asked. "You never said."

Emily felt her cheeks actually go warm. "Actually, he was."

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Emily**

There wasn't much of the room to explore. There was a narrow bed along one wall, with a thick mattress stuffed with straw from the feel, and piled with warm blankets, a table with a rush-seat chair, a wardrobe with hooks on one side for hanging clothing and drawers and shelves on the other for storage and a mirror. Lighting seemed to be provided by candles in glass lanterns, probably to lower the risk of fire. A door at the back connected to a less primitive bathroom than Emily had feared, there was a flush toilet with a familiar wooden seat but of the old-fashioned gravity-fed kind with the tank up by the ceiling, and a pile of some soft vegetable matter to replace paper, and a cold-water sink which was also gravity fed. No facilities for bathing though, but everyone had smelled clean so that had to be handled somehow. Emily peeked through the other door but the room next to hers was as empty as hers had been.

A moment later there was a tap on the door and a round, red cheeked woman came in with a younger girl, both of whom had their arms full of cloth and other items. "Try the boots, Guardian." The woman said with a smile. "Leave the ones that don't fit outside the door for collection. And leave the basket out in the morning with your laundry. Welcome to Tá Súil." Emily opened her mouth to say hello, ask the woman her name, but they bustled out before she had the chance.

Right.

The boots were all leather, with hobnails in the soles for traction, and one pair fit quite comfortably. They came with thick socks to pad against blisters. They had also brought a couple of pairs of those canvas trousers and long, black skirt of the same material, some linen tunics in black and red and a dull, natural color, wool vests in black and red and a red wool cloak, unlike the others she had seen this one was unadorned. And there were a number of kerchiefs, all dyed in different designs, mostly red. Everyone she had seen had been wearing them, although they let their hair show, so she figured they were some cultural requirement and so she would start wearing them herself. As her mother had always said, when in Rome and all.

The soon-to-be-laundry basket revealed a bar of soap in its own box and a jar of some thick ointment that smelled of sweet herbs and probably passed for lotion, a comb, a couple of soft shifts that had to be nightwear, a sturdy kimono type robe, and a pair of flat, woven slippers, which spoke to a communal bath house somewhere. There were also six long lengths of thin cloth about a foot wide. These last two left her mystified.

Thankfully black and red had always been good colors for her. A quick peep out the door revealed two women going by in the long skirts so she figured people changed and dressed a bit for dinner here, not an uncommon custom. She changed into the black skirt and boots, the red tunic and a black vest over top, and tucked a kerchief around her hair. At the bottom of the basket she found a likely bag, leather with a tooled, almost Celtic pattern, and a long strap. It was long enough to hang across her body under the vest and a good size for holding her phone and badge, as well as Spencer's belongings.

For a moment she looked at his ID. He was so dammed young, even now. Damn it all to hell.

Thankfully the waistband of her skirt would support her belt and holster, and there was room in the bag for Spencer's revolver. Thus dressed she headed back toward the gate where they came in, not knowing how much time she had before the dinner bell. Her timing was good though, it didn't look like Andrew, resplendent in his own snowy white tunic and indigo vest with many silver buttons, had been waiting long. "Found everything you need then?" He asked.

"Yes, thank you." Emily replied. The corridor was busier than before, with people in various uniforms gathering in small knots, meeting up again after a day's work. A bell sounded, gentle and low and people started drifting in one direction. "This community is bigger than I expected."

"It's bigger than it should be. The flyers bring too much suffering out into the countryside. It's one thing to take our harvests, but what they do…" He sighed, pain and anger in his eyes.

"I agree. How come no one has fought back?"

"The village priesthood; they have the people convinced that being taken is the will of God. Helped by the fact that most people don't see the flyers, and the victims don't understand."

They had reached what Emily had assumed was the church, but it was actually a large hall, one with a high ceiling lined with windows to let in the dying light, and oil lights and a large fire at one end. The hall was full of short tables that were filling with groups, all helping themselves at a buffet lined against the front wall along the way. Andrew took her there first; there were warm rolls and creamy butter, bowls of cooked grains and platters heaped with delicately cooked vegetables and sweet fruits. But… "No meat?"

He shook his head. "No, we don't serve it here." Mugs of a cloudy liquid were acquired and he led her to a table off by one of the columns that held up the roof, a place that was a bit more private, "Easier to talk if we're out of traffic."

And easier to observe. Emily noticed couples here and there, and children. "You have families here?"

"Some. Usually families of patients, either current or former who decided to stay on, or the people who come to work here; they have houses by the fields but most people come in to share the evening meal with the community."

"Families of patients or workers, not Healers or Guardians?"

He actually flushed a little around the ears. "Healers and Guardians aren't allowed to take vows. We're supposed to be committed to our work; a family would have to come first."

She noticed several cases where Healers and Guardians were coupled; both hetero and homosexual couples were obvious. "Then…" She vaguely gestured toward the nearest one.

"That doesn't mean you can't fall in love." He said, still flushed. "Nearly everyone has a partner they prefer. But exclusive relationships don't work all that well."

"Ah."

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

"That hardly seems fair." Morgan said.

"Well, married to the work is a reality." Dave pointed out. "Look at all of us."

"Besides, I found out later that a number of them were also, um, surrogates." Emily explained.

"Okay, you all lost me." Morgan replied.

Emily caught Dave's eye. "Come help me." He said to Spencer, getting the younger man out of earshot, just in case.

"As I understood it one of their key beliefs was that people need a strong mind-body connection to be truly healthy, including a strong awareness of their sexuality." The more she talked the easier it was to remember. "While they didn't support promiscuity they didn't believe in asexuality or even celibacy. Everyone was encouraged to do something."

"Yeah, but victims of trauma like that usually have that mind-body connection broken." Penelope pointed out. "They're all up in their heads. I've seen victims not even realize they've broken a bone, they're so tuned out of their senses."

Emily nodded. "From what I could tell a big part of their therapy involved reconnecting the mind and body, including helping patients re-discover their sexuality."

"Okay, I can get with that but what do you mean by surrogate?" Morgan asked.

"Well, you can only go so far on your own." Emily just did not know how he was going to react. "And if a patient didn't have a committed partner a well-trained one would be provided if needed."

The look on Morgan's face as the light bulb went on and he started to process was priceless. "Was Andrew a surrogate?" Penelope asked. "You never said."

Emily felt her cheeks actually go warm. "Actually, he was."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**Esalen Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Emily**

They ate for a few minutes in comfortable silence. Emily found the food so rich and filling that she didn't miss the meat at all. The cloudy liquid turned out to be something like honeyed lemonade, cool and refreshing. As she looked around the room the different groups starts shaking out. Everyone wore a headscarf of some kind, the guys all wore simple ones, as did the women who were obviously on a break from work, but the women who were off for the evening tended to wear more ornate head dresses, sometimes two layers, with beads and tassels and ornate embroidery. Women preen, she thought, some things really are universal. They did show bangs, or some kind of hair around the face, and let it hang down the back; some of the younger woman had little braids and beads around their face, which was probably considered kind of flirty. The guys all seemed to wear it long enough to brush their collars, the women all the way down the back. I'm glad I didn't get mine cut last week, Emily thought. Hers was down around her shoulders, short for here. A bob would have really stood out.

The Healers, all of whom wore at least something in indigo blue, seemed to wear simple, short sleeve smocks in indigo and natural colored canvass trousers as a work uniform, much the way she would expect nurses in a hospital to wear scrubs. Off duty the men wore high neck, long sleeve shirts and vests, some ornate, and the women wore longer, ornate tunics that she likened to the salwar kameez of southern and central Asia, either over darker trousers or long skirts. The Guardians wore snugger fitting knitted shirts under protective leather gear with darker trousers for work, with some sort of crimson somewhere. Off duty the men dressed the same as the Healer men, only with the different colors, and the women tended to wear the snug, knit tops with long, ornate flowing vests and long skirts or flowing trousers. The people who worked there seemed to wear variations of all of the above, but in natural colors or in what looked like colors of natural dyes, lichen, moss, mulberry, yellows.

But as she looked some people started to stand out. It wasn't just that they were the only ones wearing plain headdresses; it was how they were acting as well, shy, nervous, kind of wary of the crowd. She was about to ask Andrew but then the round cheeked woman who brought her the basket of clothing bustled up to the table. "Andrew, we've all heard about Kira. I am so sorry. All of my people will have her in their thoughts."

"Thank you."

"The girls want to make her some long skal-va for when she gets back, for work and all. Any idea what kind of designs she might like?"

"Um, anything for archery? Horses, she loves to ride…um…I know she liked golden threads and beads, and the ones with the rainbow sparkle."

"Done! And you, dear…" The woman turned to Emily. "What would your Healer like?"

"Ahhhh…." It would help if I knew what we were talking about, Emily thought.

"Think about it, we have time. Stay strong dears." The woman patted Andrew on the shoulder than hustled off to another table.

"That was Hilde." Andrew told her. "She runs the laundry and clothing shop."

"Ah." Emily watched her go. "Okay, I'm confused. I know she was just offering to do something nice but what are… _skal-va_?" That was how it sounded at least.

"Um,  _skal-va_?" Andrew reached up and tugged lightly on his head scarf. "You don't have them where you're from?"

"Ah. Not commonly, no."

Andrew looked confused at that one. "Remind me to ask you another question later."

"Right. I noticed that the only women wearing really long ones appear to be patients. Do I have that right?"

He nodded and leaned in to talk quietly. "When they're taken to the cages the torturers chop their hair short." He said it like it was something horrific. "So they wear longer ones."

"Ohhh." He said it like it was something horrific, a violation of a deeply held taboo.

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

"You know, he never did ask me whatever he was thinking." Emily said, shaking out of the light trance of the cognitive. "I wonder why he wanted to wait until later."

"Because it was more than likely a very personal question." Spencer replied. He'd crept back at some point, was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, probably so he could beat a retreat to the light and warmth and comfort of Rossi's company if he needed to. "They've evolved a third major erogenous zone that encompassed the back of the neck and in women extended down between the shoulder blades. He was probably curious to see if you had one and if so how you covered it."

"Really?" Emily asked.

Spencer nodded. They called it a  _nock-ken_. I have no clue how that's spelled."

"So cutting your hair was bad?" Penelope asked.

"According to Kira it was like being forced to remain topless for five or six years." Spencer replied. "Even when you went home you'd be topless in front of your friends and family. It was deeply humiliating."

"That is Unsub behavior." Morgan agreed.

"Did they cut hers off?" Penelope asked.

Spencer nodded again and made a gesture right under his ears to show how closely they had cropped it. "She was extremely upset by it."

"Ouch. Poor kid."

"I wonder what that would make me." The very bald Morgan mused.

"Popular for all the wrong reasons." Spencer replied.

"Oh hell no." Morgan grumbled.

"You just said 'evolved'". Dave pointed out as he came out of the kitchen with something in his hands. "Did you actually see one of these?"

"Well, uhh…"

"So we're not talking human?"

Spencer blinked and got that distant look he got when he was re-evaluating. "Humanoid, but not….Damn it!"

"What?" Morgan asked.

"We were on another planet and I got stuck in a fucking box!"

"Insult to injury." Dave agreed as they all smothered grins. "Eat this. Emily, do you concur?" He asked as he pushed something into Spencer's hands.

Emily thought about it for a long moment. "Yes. I thought I was dreaming….there was a gas giant in the sky, they called it Big Sister, it was the most beautiful thing…and the horses were not…."

"Oh my god." Penelope breathed.

It was true, Emily suddenly realized. It was true. "We weren't on Earth."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

**Emily**

"Uh-huh. Here's another question." Dave was still wiping his hands, waiting for Spencer's judgment on the food. "You two have started using non-English words. It's kind of a stretch to assume that people on a different planet were speaking flawless English…"

"What are you saying?" Morgan asked, clearly confused.

"That this might not be random. How many languages do you speak?"

"English and some Spanish, why?"

"I speak English and Italian. Does anyone know about JJ?"

"English and French, I think." Penelope said.

"Aaron is good at many things, but learning languages has never been one of them." Dave shared. "I think we can assume that the pilots probably speak one on top of English, if that. Emily?"

The great thing about being an Ambassadors' kid, "Um, English, French, Spanish, Modern Standard Arabic, some Russian, some Gaelic, a little Polish, a little less Mandarin Chinese…"

Morgan interrupted her. "So you're saying that whatever did this picked the genius and the polyglot?"

"The two people who could be most easily implanted with a new language." Dave nodded. "Spencer because a language is basically a code and his brain is naturally wired to think that way and Emily because her brain has been trained to pick up languages quickly."

"So are we saying some entity did this?" Emily asked.

Dave considered a moment, "Maybe. I don't think we have enough data for that, but I think we should keep our minds open to the possibility. That said it sounds like the whole being caught part was accidental, which would mean that some plan was derailed if that's the case."

"What plan?" Spencer asked.

"We don't know yet." Dave replied. "Is that staying down?"

Spencer nodded. "Do you have any more?"

"Good, you can eat fish. Come help me make them." Dave headed back to the kitchen, giving Emily the look that said 'he's out of the way, keep going.'

Morgan looked back at her. "Okay, take a deep breath and relax. What do you smell?"

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

Mushroom stew. Herb bread. Candles. Some sweet scented wood burning in the fire. People.

"If you meet up with them in the halls try not to stare, if you can." Andrew continued. "And while we're at it don't touch them, they don't take it well."

"And keep your voice down, your manner quiet?" He nodded. "Spencer taught us that kind of thing." Better to fit in when she could, even if it meant presenting Spencer as more doctor than agent, it might get them more assistance if they fit the cultural norms.

"Spencer," said another voice approaching the table, "Your Healer?" The woman who joined them was probably in her later 30's and wore an indigo tunic and skirt combination, and an indigo  _skal-va_  with delicate white embroidery and a lace trim over her blond hair.

"Merina." Andrew half rose before she motioned him back down. "This is Emily, a Guardian from the other place. Emily, this is Merina, my teacher. Please, join us."

Merina sat next to Emily, thankfully not too close. "I heard about what happened." She told Andrew. "She's strong, you know. She'll make it."

"I know she will." Andrew replied. "I just wish she didn't have to go through this."

"Have you given any thought to training someone to work with her when she returns?"

"Some. I think either Grant or Benjamin would be able to handle it, but I'm not going to be able to train either of them."

"Why not?"

"Because Emily is going to the City to get her Healer back," Andrew looked at the two of them and kind of set himself. "And I'm going with her."

"What?" Merina was shocked. "Andrew, you can't. We need you here."

"We don't have any patients currently in house who will want my specialty." He replied. "Anyone else can cover the other work I do. Besides, I'm not going to be able to work with Kira in the cages. My sister has to be my priority, you know that."

"And if you don't come back?"

"Then I hope you train Benjamin well."

Emily was still a half a conversation back. "You're not going with me." Emily told him. "I can handle this on my own, I just need a horse."

Andrew looked at her. "And how are you getting them back?"

Good point. "Okay, three horses."

He took a deep breath. "Emily, I'm guessing they don't have the Cage system where you're from…" She shook her head and he looked away and took a moment to get a tight hold. "I've been trying really hard not to think about it but my sister is going to be brutally raped and tortured every day until she's out of there. Even though she's one of our best riders when we get her out I'm not going to ask her to sit a horse. And I'm pretty sure your Healer isn't going to be up to it either."

Emily felt all the color draining out of her face. She had wondered…. "Why?" Why do they do this, why?

"That is the question." Merina murmured.

"When we came here we brought our horses, Jax and Astri." Andrew continued. "Just because we placed them in the communal stable that doesn't mean they're not still ours, we trained them from colts, they only respond to us. And I also brought the wagon I trained them to pull and I know the way. You're not going to be able to get to the City without me."

Damn it. Emily couldn't decide if she was frustrated or elated or terrified or angry… "All right, but you're not going in with me."

"I spent six months training for a Guardian, I can handle it."

"You're a fool, Andrew." Merina murmured.

He looked over at his teacher, "Perhaps. But if it's at all possible I have to try."

"And I have to wish you well. Excuse me." She stood and walked away.

Andrew watched her go. "Are you done?" Emily nodded. "Let's get out of here before word gets around."

She needed a distraction, space to think. "I'd like to see that other badge you were talking about."

"All right. Let's go."

As they left Emily looked back. She spotted Merina talking to another woman, tall and dark, dressed in Guardian colors, with long, dark braids hanging from under her plain  _skal-va_. But the woman wasn't looking at Merina. She was watching them leave.

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

"That was when we went to the library and he showed me the Marshall's badge and paperwork." Emily said. She'd forgotten all of that. She'd known this whole time. "Why didn't I remember that?"

"Anger. Guilt. Fear." Penelope replied. "Pick your emotion. Knowing someone you care about is being hurt can do weird things to the mind."

"Remember that case we had out in LA?" Morgan added. "The artist who saw his fiancée raped and murdered? Look what it did to him. I'd say some forgetting in this situation is almost normal. Besides, he's safe now."

"Leave some for dinner." Dave said in the kitchen.

"If Rossi doesn't kill him," Morgan added. "Maybe we should take a break and go help, we've been at this for a while."

"Agreed," Penelope said.

Emily nodded, "Agreed."

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

**Emily**

"Okay, I do not get this whole language thing." Penelope said as they headed into the bright, warm kitchen. "Are we saying that they somehow absorbed an entirely different language and didn't know it?"

"Well, there's a way to find out." Morgan replied. "Fire up your computer, set it to record."

"Why?" Emily asked. She'd been sitting with her memories for too long, it felt good to get up and stretch, to be in this warmth and this light, to see Spencer sitting there, stealing one of whatever Dave was putting out on the trays and nearly getting his knuckles rapped for it. It's going to be okay, she thought, we can get through this.

"Because," Morgan replied. He watched as Penelope got her machine fired up and the right program up. "Just start it. Okay, Prentiss, say something to me like you would to whatshisname, Andrew. Just pretend I'm him."

Emily chuckled. "Oh, you are so not Andrew." She said as Spencer sat across from them and listened.

"Come on, you can picture it. Talk to me."

Morgan wasn't Andrew. He didn't have that calm, almost Zen vibe. But she could see a lot of Reka in him, the strength, and the confidence. Yes, it was easy to see her other companion standing there, and to say what she always wanted to say. "I don't want to walk today. My ass hurts." Everyone but Spencer turned and blinked at her. "What?"

Morgan turned to Spencer. "Eidetic memory, what did she just say? Without thinking."

"I don't want to walk today. My ass hurts." Spencer replied.

Dave nodded. "Okay Garcia, stop and play that back."

Penelope's eyes were wide as she tapped her screen:

_Okay, Prentiss, say something to me like you would to whatshisname, Andrew. Just pretend I'm him._

_Oh, you are so not Andrew._

_Come on, you can picture it. Talk to me._

_Ní mian liom ganga í dag. Mo thóin vondt. What?_

Morgan reached over and paused the recording. "No." Emily insisted. "I was speaking English. I swear. I said I didn't want to walk today, my ass hurts." She looked at them. "Okay, what did I just say?'

"That your ass hurt," Dave replied. "But when you pictured someone from there you switched languages, the recording doesn't lie."

"And neither does a court-certified eidetic memory." Morgan turned to Spencer. "What did you hear her say, not literal, rephrase it."

"That she…didn't want to workout on this day, her backside was sore." Spencer shrugged. "What she said."

"Just like that? In English?"

"Yeah."

Morgan reached over and played the recording again.

_Eidetic memory, what did she just say? Without thinking._

_Ní mian liom ganga í dag. Mo thóin vondt_

"She was speaking English." Spencer insisted. "I was speaking English."

"The recoding doesn't lie." Morgan replied. He tapped the screen. "You try it. Come on, picture that girl here. What would you say to her? What did you say to her?"

Emily watched Spencer look off into his own memories. "Sing for me, please."

Morgan turned to her. "Okay, what did he say?"

"Sing for me, please."

"Now describe it."

"He asked her to sing."

Morgan stopped the recording and played it back.

_You try it. Come on, picture that girl here. What would you say to her? What did you say to her?_

_Ceolann til dom, takk._

_Okay what did he say?_

_Ceolann til dom, takk._

_Now describe it._

_He asked her to sing._

"No!" Spencer insisted. "It was English, I know it was English!"

"The recording doesn't lie." Dave pointed out.

"How could this happen though?" Penelope asked.

Emily watched as Spencer's mouth opened and closed as he started coming up with possibilities. "Uhhh, fuel your brain before you run it that hard."

"Yes." Dave agreed as he started putting out stuff to set the table. "Please. I hope you all like Fettuccine Alfredo."

"Does anyone not like that for dinner?" Emily asked.

"First course," Dave replied. "Have you seen his torso?"

"Kira could sing?" Penelope asked.

"She's a natural soprano; somewhat higher than a light lyric and utterly pure." He smiled a little at the memory. "It was amazing."

"So they kept the two of you together?" Morgan asked.

Spencer closed down so fast you could almost hear his brain snapping shut, "Yeah." He turned to start setting the table, which was when Penelope gave Morgan a solid kick, or so his wince said.

Emily considered as she started bringing the food to the table. "I probably should have guessed something like this." She said. "They didn't read or write English."

"How do you know?" Dave asked.

"The next morning Andrew left a note on my door. Reka had to read it for me."

For all that he was shut down Spencer was also thinking. "Did it use the Latin alphabet?"

"No." Emily was quite certain of that. "But I'm not…"

"Could you draw some of it from memory?"

Emily sighed and pulled a sheet off the notepad Dave had for groceries. She closed her eyes and remembered the note she'd seen, the one Andrew had written for her. Lots of lines, odd shapes…something….

Spencer watched carefully as she scratched what she could remember onto the paper, even as he took Penelope's tablet and started looking. "Something like this?" He asked as he turned it around, showing a picture of symbols laid out like an alphabet.

"Yes!" That was it! That was nearly exactly it! Except…"Mostly."

He paged up a couple of more examples. When he got to the third… "That." She told him. "That's perfect. Even that one there, what is that?"

"Anglo-Saxon runic writing," Spencer had that wheels turning thing going. "I was wondering why they were using the term Missionaries. Did that come out right?"

"Yeah," Morgan told him.

"And why they were using a different language than the general population, why they built something that looked enough like a medieval abbey for you to recognize it, and how they developed their religious beliefs. But if they're using runic writing it brings up the possibility that the group is descended from a colony from our planet."

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

**Emily**

"How are you getting that?" Emily asked.

"Kira said her family was descended from immigrants." Spencer replied. "I figured she meant intra-continental immigration, like we have here. But Norse and Anglo-Saxon groups set up temporary hunting camps in North America from potentially as early as the 800's to as late as the 1200's. They mostly settled in Greenland and Newfoundland, but archeological evidence has them as far south as Maine and as far inland as Minnesota, southwest of Lake Superior. There have been legends among Native American peoples as far south as Haiti and as far west as the Mayans of pale skinned strangers from the east. The Delaware Tribe told the first missionaries who contacted them that they had been waiting for the eastern strangers for years. It's not a stretch to assume that a boat of explorers tried to cross Lake Michigan."

"And accidentally sailed through a portal," Dave nodded. "They created a settlement not far from where they landed."

"That would explain Andrew's size." Emily pointed out. "He's huge."

"I wouldn't call Kira huge but she is my height, and very sturdy. It also explains the religious beliefs the Missionaries held." Spencer added. "Based on the evidence we have I'd say the Abbey was the original home of the colony, but the colonists interbred with the natives and at least regionally their culture intermingled as well."

"And that explains how Reka was able to wipe the floor with me the next day," Emily said

"Do you want to save it for the next round of cognitive?" Morgan asked.

"I don't think I need to. A lot of it's coming back."

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

Emily got a decent night's sleep after washing up somewhat in the bathroom and rinsing out her underwear. At first she'd been concerned that her room would be cold, but someone had knocked not long after she returned and left her something called a warming pot, hot coals in a clay pot that warmed the room nicely. The next morning a peek out the door told her that the day uniform was one of those knit shirts and pants, and that sleeveless was acceptable. She pulled on her own undies, a pair of black pants and what wore like a black tank, and put a red _skal-va_  over her hair, the better to blend in and not cause offence.

When she opened the door a note fluttered to the ground, unfortunately not one she could read. She was standing there, staring at it, wondering what she was going to do now when an elegant, long fingered hand plucked it from her grasp. "Andrew says he's getting the supplies together today." The woman standing there read. She was the woman Merina had gone to speak to last night, tall and slender with long, dark, skinny braids under her red  _skal-va,_ an accent compared to everyone else _,_ and a barely concealed attitude of contempt. "And he's going to ask Mother Abbot for funds for the trip."

"Thank you." Emily replied.

"Time to break your fast," the woman replied, handing back the note and turning on her heel to head for the courtyard.

Breakfast was being held down there, people gathering around tables in one corner to fill bowls with some kind of porridge and fruit and mugs with something hot and hopefully caffeinated. Emily accepted both with a murmur of thanks and then found a bench where she could sit and eat fairly quickly. All the while she was aware of the woman's eyes on her. The only other Guardian she knew was Bosc, but people here didn't seem unfriendly so she caught the attention of the nearest. "Who is that?" She asked, nodding in the other woman's direction."

"Reka," the girl she'd asked replied.

"Is she…?"

"Going to be more of a bitch than usual today? Probably; she's Kira's trainer. Isn't it awful? Poor Kira."

Oh hell. "Yeah, poor Kira," Emily agreed. It didn't take a profiler to know who the bitch was going to be after today. Well, she'd just go help Andrew and stay out of said bitch's way.

But the best laid plans never come to pass. As soon as she turned from returning her bowl and mug Emily turned and found Reka right behind her. She'd pulled on some kind of leather armor and was carrying a long staff, thankfully one with padded ends. "So you're a Guardian from that Other Place?'

She was going to have to earn some respect just to get out of this courtyard, Emily realized. This was not the time to back down. "Yeah," she replied.

Reka looked her up and down. "Prove it." She said and then took a swing at Emily's torso.

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

"Now I taught you what to do." Morgan interrupted her as Garcia passed him the peas. "I know you know how to go up against someone with a pugil stick."

"I do, and I was so grateful to you for that." Emily replied. "For that and the knife and the chain and the flat out wrestling…"

"She really jumped you." Penelope said her eyes wide.

"She did, and I'm glad. I found out why later but at the time it was the most frustrating thing. At one point early on we ended up all practically mud wrestling, she deliberately steered us through a puddle. I found out later that was part of it too, but at the time I thought she was punishing me for losing her rookie."

"She wasn't?" Dave asked as he passed around the baked fish.

"No."

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

Emily sat on the ground, panting. She was sore already, well and truly banged up, filthy from rolling in the mud, hot, sweaty, and exhausted. The one good thing was that her opponent was leaning on her knees, looking very nearly in as bad a shape. "Are you done yet?" Emily asked her.

Reka looked at her and nodded. "You'll do." She said, offering her hands to help Emily up.

She'll do? For what? But that was a sign of acceptance, so Emily accepted the offered hands. "I missed them by seconds, I swear."

"And Kira has more balls than brains sometimes." Reka replied. "Don't know why she didn't stay undercover. Come on, get your basket." She turned back to the cloister.

"My basket?"

"Right," Reka led the way upstairs and into Emily's room. There she collected the laundry basket and filled it with that mysterious cloth, a change of clothes, robe, slippers, assorted other items. She thrust it into Emily's arms and then led her down to another hall where she stepped into what was obviously a larger room shared by two and picked up her own basket. "Come on."

Reka led her out toward the western side of the building, where there were gardens, and where Healers were clearly sitting with patients. They took a walkway that skirted the edges and led them to a smaller complex of wooden buildings tucked into the hillside. It had almost an oriental aesthetic, Emily noticed, very clean lined and fine joinery in all the wood used, and the smell was familiar somehow. The first room Reka took her too was a locker room, if the lockers were actually cubbies and wood cabinets with small, wooden buckets along the top. "That side." Reka indicated, and then turned her back and started to strip.

Locker room etiquette was universal. Emily unpacked, turned her back and started getting undressed, tossing her clothing into her laundry basket as she went. She did discretely peek and found out that those mysterious long lengths of cloth were meant to be wrapped and twisted into a loincloth and then used to bind down the breasts; in other words, underwear. Finally.

Once Reka was down to her robe, slippers and  _skal-va_  she grabbed one of the buckets and filled it with toiletries. "This way." This way led to small rooms with wooden grates for a floor and larger buckets along the side and a large faucet. It was warm in this place, comfortably so, and getting steamy. "Wash and rinse." Reka indicated the buckets. "And don't forget to cover your head when you come out. People here get ootsy if you don't."

People here? Was Reka some kind of outsider? Emily considered this as she finally got what passed for a shower. The faucet produced steaming hot water which felt heavenly when poured over her head and the bar of soap she had did well enough for her hair as well. When she was finished she rinsed and felt very nearly human again. One of the cloths Reka kept tossing in her stuff for her turned out to be a plain _skal-va_  of some kind of coarsely woven linen that would probably hold up to wet hair well. A peek past the curtain told her that women put their underwear on before leaving the shower, and that at least in the major sense they were built the same. She didn't know how to tie it like they did but she'd learned a few things on one of her mother's trips to Japan… yeah, it worked. Thankfully she stepped out a beat before Reka so the other woman wouldn't have to wait.

"This way." Reka said as she led her deeper into the building. Deeper in led to a series of rooms and bays, each with a mineral pool of different sizes. It was a bathhouse, a spa, just the sort of thing to make anyone sigh with pleasure.

* * *

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day #11**

"I hate you." Spencer said, mostly teasing

"I was there for a reason." Emily replied. "It turned out that it was a very important meeting. I couldn't have gotten you out without it."

Spencer pretended to consider. "Nope, still hate you."

They all chuckled, even him. "So what was this meeting about?" Morgan asked.

"Getting a guide"

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

**Emily**

Reka led the way to a pool in a quiet, almost private bay. "The private rooms are for patients." She explained. "This will do for us." Once there she set her things aside, tossed off her robe and slipped into the steaming hot water.

Emily felt a pang of guilt at doing this with Spencer in prison somewhere. But some instinct told her that this was important, whatever was about to happen would matter in the greater scheme of things and if this was where Reka wanted it to happen then so be it. By the time she finished that thought she was in the hot water to her neck, practically sighing with pleasure, even as she cringed at the pictures going through her head. If only Spencer was here. Not that she thought he'd get in the baths like this with her, but he'd be so fascinated by this place. And he'd be  _safe_. Without him here enjoying herself seemed a horrible thing to do. "All right, what is all this about."

Reka hissed a warning and nodded to the other side of the room. "Wait until the Healer gets out of here." The Healer, clearly identified by the indigo blue she wore, was escorting what had to be a patient, a frail looking woman wrapped in towels. They stepped into a small room and closed the door, only then did Reka lean back and relax. "So you're going after them?"

"That's right."

"And you're taking Andrew with you?"

"He's got the horses."

Reka looked her over. "You might make it, but that place will chew him to the bone."

"How do you know? Have you ever been in there?"

"In the cages? No." She was quiet a long moment. "I was born on Level 12." She admitted at last.

"Level 12?"

"In the Below," Reka smiled at her confusion. "Didn't know you'd have to go there, did you? Where did you think City folks kept the stuff they'd rather not see?"

"How do you know it's down there?"

"I've been trying to tell you, I was born down there. Went to school down there, or what passed for it. Played around with my neighbor a little too much, ended up with a baby when I was seventeen, a boy, Clancy I called him. I went to work in a factory making shirts for the people in the City. It was clean work; at least, City folk didn't want their tidy white clothes getting all soiled. Clancy grew up pretty, prettiest boy you ever saw, and with a good heart. Too pretty and too good, one day he didn't come home from school. He was all of fourteen, got tall on me; that was it."

"What happened?" Emily asked.

"They took him to the Cages." Reka smiled gently when Emily winced. "What, you thought they only took from out here? No, they see a pretty face and a pretty body they want to break it down, no matter where it is. Your Healer must be a looker himself or else they just would have taken Kira. My boy was the best thing in my life. It was easy, down there, to find a way to escape. Not your body, but there were pills and powders if you had something to trade, and a woman always does. But I stopped all that for my boy, he was going to do something great, I just knew it, and I wasn't going to let him down."

All of a sudden something clicked. "So you went after him?"

Reka nodded, "All the way from level 12 to level 64. Had to find the ramp on every level, climb it, steep and slippery every time. Avoid the gangs, avoid the Watchers, and try not to get raped in the sanits, steal food and water where I could. Took days to figure it all, days and days. I finally got up there and I had to bribe the operator to get him out, only thing I had. But I did it for my boy. Then I got lucky, or blessed, depending on who you talked to."

"How?"

"We all heard about Outside, some magical place where there wasn't any dirt, any bugs, where there was sky and fresh air and food and water for the taking. Where there weren't any people, no one was packed in like fish in a can. Some folks said that it was nonsense; that Outside had been destroyed but some said it was real. I wanted to try. My boy was sick, even I could tell that, and if he was going to die he was going to go with sun on his face and fresh air in his lungs, not down with the rats and the trash. So I made for the cargo trains, all the way down on 5. If anything led outside they did. I found a lift that went down there, straight shot up and down, and took it. Problem was, down on the train platforms, I didn't know where I was going. I knew there were crazies living down there, people driven mad from hunger and sickness and the dark, people who would eat you if they caught you. I just hoped we'd go quick if they found us first."

"I assume they didn't?"

"No. No, before we got that lost I saw the most amazing thing. Strangers coming in. People so big and so tall and so dammed confident they almost glowed. And  _color_ , red and blue, I had never seen color like that in all my life. They asked me what I was doing and I knew they weren't Watchers, they weren't the Authorities and I thought I was losing my mind anyway so I told them."

"A Missionary team?" Emily guessed.

Reka nodded. "One of those folks in red said they would get us out of there, me and my boy, and they did. But the other three, they went into the tunnels even though I begged them not to go." She sighed with the memory. "We never saw them again. Bosc brought us back here, and they saved my boy's life."

"So you and your son became Guardians?

She nodded. "I started right off. They made him wait a few years until he got some bone into him. Seemed the only right thing, payback for saving him." She smiled, just a little. "Before you ask he's not here now. We lost him five years ago."

Oh. Oh, after all that to lose her son. "How?" Emily asked, gentle with compassion.

"He was on a Missionary team; they went out to one of the villages to see if anyone needed help, and to spread the Message. The local priest riled up a mob of men to go after them. Clancy took an injury protecting the Healer, he never recovered."

"I am so sorry."

Reka shook her head slowly. "He died a man, free, under the sun and the sky, doing honorable work and with love in his arms. I couldn't have wanted more for him except more time, and that wasn't his to have." She looked over at Emily now, leaving her memories behind. "And now they've taken a Healer."

"Yes."

"That cannot stand." She sighed. "You know we're going to have a devil of a time getting Andrew in and out again. Going to have to be hard with him to make him listen to reason."

"We?" She was willing to go back there?

Reka just smiled. "I don't want my partner mourning her best student. Come on." She headed for the steps out of the pool. "Let's go help him pack."


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 4
> 
> When trouble comes, it's your family that supports you.  
> \- Guy Lafleur

**Chapter 30**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA, USA**   
**Day #11**

**Spencer**

"We left at dawn the next day." Emily said, her hand curing around her mug of after-dinner tea. "Nothing really exciting happened the rest of that day, we packed the wagon, made sure the horses were fed for a few days…."

"Fed for a few days?" Penelope asked. "Didn't they eat every day?"

"No. As it turned out most of the 'horses' we say were closer to what we would call a very large llama, shaggy, different hooves and eyes. The ones Kira and Andrew and a few other people had were another species, one they called war horses. They looked a lot like what we would call horses, except large like what we would call a shire horse or a Clydesdale, a good seven foot tall at the shoulder on a stallion like Jax. And they were carnivores."

"Carnivores?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, picture a horse with sharp fangs and claws on their hooves. They raised pigs just to feed the war horses. Feeding Jax and Astri meant butchering two pigs and throwing them into the paddock. It was not pretty."

"And they hitched those things to a wagon?" Dave was in shock.

"Sometimes, but apparently Jax and Astri were commonly used for riding."

Dave looked over at Spencer. "I think you might be right about the Vikings."

Spencer was amazed. "Kira talked about riding Jax." He said, remembering how her voice ached with longing when she spoke of it. "She made it sound so free, she said it felt like she could ride to the ends of the earth and nothing could stop her."

"Well from what everyone said she was one of their best archers." Emily nodded. "With that and Jax under her it might take something like an air assault to slow her down."

"She rode the stallion?" Morgan asked.

"She said that her brother didn't have the temperament to keep up with Jax." Spencer replied. "She said he needed a strong hand and her brother was too gentle."

"I don't think Jax really liked any of us." Emily agreed. "Thankfully Andrew kept them muzzled most of the time, they could drink but not bite."

"Do you remember all of it now?" Penelope asked.

"I do, at least most of it." Emily said. "Why?"

"Because there is such a thing as too much at once. I think maybe we should stop for tonight so we don't burn out."

"I want to hear the rest of the story." Spencer protested. It was kind of helping, to know what Emily was doing while he was enduring what happened to him.

"I know, and I think you should. Just not all at once." Penelope replied.

"And we do have work tomorrow." Morgan pointed out.

"Uhhh…." Penelope winced.

"What?"

She looked over at Spencer. "Okay, I know you're not going to like hearing this and I know you're not going to want to…"

"Penelope," Dave spoke up. "Please."

"Okay, are we in agreement that they went, like, physically?"

"That's what the evidence we have is telling us." Emily said.

"Okay." Penelope was still looking at Spencer. "Have you been to see a doctor yet?"

Spencer's gut twisted into tight knots as he realized exactly what she meant. "I'm fine."

"Now, she has a point." Emily replied. "You were running a fever the day after the birthday party."

"You gotta go man." Morgan agreed.

He'd never felt his flight response wind up so quickly before. "No, I don't." He couldn't handle having some man touching him like that. At all. Perhaps ever. No more men, he thought, I can't.

"Yes, you do." Penelope replied. "Just tell me if you'd rather see a male doctor or a female doctor."

"Female." He might be able to tolerate a woman. It would still be impossible, but perhaps slightly less so.

"Because I have file full of resources and I will find a female doctor who knows how to handle this kind of thing and I will get you in to see her tomorrow and I will even drive." Penelope nodded. "You have sick time in the system, yes?" Spencer nodded. "Good. Call it in for a few days. Take some time."

"What do I tell Hotch?"

"Let me take care of that." Dave replied. "There are things Aaron doesn't need to officially know."

Spencer nodded. He knew Hotch only wanted what was best for all of them, as did Dave. He trusted them both. But as for the rest of it…he looked around the table. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?" They all shook their heads. He sighed. "All right, but if you're going back to work I'm going home. Being here while you're out on a case would be too weird."

"Fair enough." Dave agreed. Stay tonight, go home tomorrow. Let me get one more breakfast into you at least. You too." He said to Emily, who rolled her eyes and nodded.

Morgan turned to Emily and grinned. "I didn't know we had an Italian grandmother on the team."

Dave glared at him. "Keep it up, next time no dessert."

They all chuckled. Spencer did a quick bit of math in his head. Emily was born in 1970. He didn't know when Dave served in Viet Nam, or when he married his first wife, or even when they became lovers, but the math could work. If he had just met them he would assume father-daughter first, they had that kind of vibe sometimes.

It was nice.

"I have some time I can take." Penelope said. "Do you have a couch?"

Oh for god's…. Spencer sighed again. "You don't have to…"

"No, but I am anyway, at least for a night or two, so hush."

"I'm going to suggest we meet again next week. I'll cook in exchange for more of the story." Dave said. "Friday?" There were nods all around. "All right."

Their gathering started breaking up. People started heading home, with hugs all around. Finally Dave went to start his dishwasher. "Did you sleep last night?" Emily asked him.

Spencer shook his head. Now that he thought about it exhaustion was catching up to him. "Not as well as I wanted. They deliberately messed up our circadian rhythms, the lights never went off." And when he did sleep the nightmares took him. It was not helping.

"I don't know what to tell you about those, but…" She dug into one of the bags Penelope had brought, and tossed a box of herbal tea at him. "Give it a try, it can't hurt. I think she brought some honey too."

Valerian, lavender, chamomile, lemon balm, "Right." It might actually help, the attempt would probably be abbey approved at any rate. He heard the water running, muffling their voices. "Emily, are you….are you missing anything? Something you had there?"

"I can't find my rosary. Why?"

"I had this coin….."

He was relieved to see the understanding come into her eyes; he didn't have to say it was his NA coin. "Where was the last place you saw it?"

"I tossed it into the pile when the flyers had us cornered."

Emily groaned. "I never saw it. I am so sorry."

Spencer had to smile. "I can get another one. I just don't know what I'm going to tell my sponsor."

"That you lost it?"

"And can't get it back because it's on another planet?"

They both broke into laughter.

* * *

**Quadrant 4**   
**District 7**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #31**

**Andrew**

Andrew looked at his sister and sighed.

Once again they had camped under the muknuk trees in some farmer's hedgerow, where they wouldn't be any trouble to anyone and could siphon some water from one of his irrigation wells without issue. Even better, this farmer was friendly enough to accept coin for a couple of pigs so they'd been able to feed Jax and Astri tonight.

Thankfully they'd also been feeding his sister.

Kira wasn't as sick as she could have been. From the first night they had stopped she'd been eating, abbey porridge at least, and then doing what came after in the natural fashion. That alone kept her illness from being a crisis. The one house they had passed that had been roasting some carcass had made her ill from the smell but she'd quickly been able to return to her regular diet. Tonight she'd even accepted the broth from the soup they'd made, full of nutrition from the greens and mushrooms, and had a plateful of roots roasted soft and topped with butter. And she'd downed every cup of tea he'd placed in her hands without complaint.

That didn't mean she was well.

He knew she barely slept most nights. She'd wake starting from nightmares, calling for the one person he couldn't bring her. And when she was awake she refused all human contact, she pulled away from even the most careful touch with the complaint that it hurt somehow. Only Jax could provide her any comfort.

That's where she was now, curled up between the war horse and the fire, a brilliant ember in her red cloak trimmed in golden starflowers, the hood pulled up to protect her shorn head and perhaps some injuries. Expected but he didn't know for sure, she wouldn't let him look. He crouched beside her and offered her the mug he was holding. "Here." He said, gently. "It will help you sleep."

"Thank you." She accepted it with the smallest smile.

He twisted to sit, not too close. "What are you thinking?" We're always been best friends, he thought, you've never been this quiet. Let me help, let me in.

"I'm thinking of cuddlers."

That kind of made sense, in a way. They were one of the first comforts of childhood. "I'm sure we have some in the abbey." And if not some would be made, he'd see to it.

She shook her head and sighed. "Not the one I want."

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

**Dave Rossi's house**   
**Alexandria, VA, USA**   
**Day #12**

**Spencer**

_Half-dead._

_That was the term she had used. Half-dead, when your soul was unconnected, rattling loosely around in your body. Half-dead._

_That's what was in her eyes as she fell to the ground, and they fell upon her. He screamed to no avail as they ripped her soul loose and the connection died in her eyes_

_No_

_No no no nonononono….._

* * *

"No! Leave her alone!" Spencer screamed as he sat up in bed, the bear falling to the floor. "Leave her alone!"

"Hey," said a voice from the door. Dave. "Spencer?"

A nightmare. Just a nightmare. No, a memory. No, they were the same. He ran a shaky hand over his face and tried to stop seeing her eyes. "Yea. Nightmare. I'm okay."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, sorry I woke you."

"I have to be up in ten minutes anyway. Come down when you're ready."

Spencer nodded. "Thank you."

"No rush." Dave closed the door behind him.

Half-dead, Spencer thought. Is that how I left her? Is that what I am now?

Eventually Spencer made it downstairs, where he found Dave at the counter, drinking coffee and reading the paper. "Where's Emily?"

"She already went in; she had a meeting this morning. How does a cheese and mushroom omelet sound? I want to use up the leftovers from last night."

"Wonderful, thank you."

"Penelope e-mailed, she said she had an appointment for you at one, she'd be by to pick you up." Spencer's stomach sank. Dave must have noticed. "Want male company?"

"No." Wait, that didn't come out right. "I mean, thank you but it wouldn't help."

"You need to do this you know."

"I know." Spencer had poked around down there in the shower that morning, something he had not done except for very quick, efficient bathing since it had all happened. He'd found two distinct sore spots that did indicate an exam was needed and then probably treatment. He was just…no, he wasn't scared. He was regretful. It was sad, so very sad. He had hoped….which was nonsense of course; medical care would have come first.

Dave put a glass of orange juice in front of him. "You okay?"

Right, back on this planet, "I will be."

"I'm sure." Dave went back to the stove to stir things that were starting to smell quite good without smelling too good. "I heard you this morning. Don't know if you remember."

"I remember." Waking up from a nightmare.

"Emily was in the shower, she didn't hear." He paused to do something to something in the pans. "You know, that would have bothered me the most too."

"Hmmm?"

"You were telling them to leave her alone. Going after the victim, that part always bothered me too." Dave turned to look at him. "That's what this is you know, at least that part. She was a victim, you saw her through safely and now she's home with her family and getting help. That's what we do."

That made it sound too simple. It wasn't. "It's more complicated than that."

Dave slid a plate with a perfectly turned omelet and a pile of fried potatoes under his nose. "Why? Because you fell in love with this one?" Spencer looked up at him, was it that obvious? "You think you're the first? Heh."

"Partially," he admitted that much. Sigh. "I made a promise I'm not there to keep."

"Ah. Well, nothing you can do about that."

"No."

* * *

**Spencer' Reid's Apartment**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #12**

The first visit hadn't been as bad as expected.

After the usual round of medical history and basic checks the doctor had come in to chat a bit. She'd said that since she got the referral from Penelope that she had a fair idea of what had happened. They discussed his symptoms, the damage that could be there, the need for HIV and Hepatitis testing, all exactly what he had expected, most of which he did not need. And then she came to the part he had been dreading; she needed to do an exam to confirm that he did not need surgery.

It wasn't terror. Not really. He was all just so sad. If she was here, he thought, right outside the door…

Then the doctor offered a mild sedative, to help him relax.

Yes, he thought, let me sleep through one more. Then I'll be fine.

They scheduled the exam for the next day and gone to restock his pantry and fridge. Now that he knew and accepted what had happened he'd come up with a simple solution to the first problem. They'd made it through the grocery store in the direct FBI manner; he had swiped some Mentho-rub under his nose. Not recommended on a daily basis, it could burn something awful, but it kept out the smell of  _decomp,_ keeping out the smell of roasting chickens was nothing. With the trigger eliminated he was easily able to go about the store and with Penelope's help and buy what he needed for a new, semi-vegetarian diet. They had determined that he could do fish, eggs, cheese and milk as well as baked goods, grains, beans, fruits and veggies. He could also do just about anything cloaked in a bright red tomato sauce, so long as he didn't have to smell it cooking.

Unfortunately it wasn't until they got home that they figured out another category that was impossible. "Okay, so these breaded fish fillets aren't the healthiest thing." Garcia said as she pulled them out of the oven. "But they work and Henry loves them, so if you have to cook for the two of you you're covered."

Spencer looked at the temptingly scented, golden brown rectangles of fish on the tray.

The temptingly scented, golden brown rectangles of fish.

The temptingly scented, golden brown rectangles.

The temptingly scented, golden brown rectangles that were….were…

Without a word he picked up a heavy spatula and proceeded to beat them to crumbles. White bits of fish went flying everywhere, which only seemed to spur him on to greater, albeit silent, violence.

When he was done there was fish everywhere, the counter, the floor, the cabinets, them. He stood there, breathing hard, utterly relieved that he had been able to kill them before they broke open and…and…

Penelope brushed the bits of fish out of her bangs and off her glasses. "What did you see?" She asked, calmly.

"They were….they were moving….they were…maggots." The pouches had looked oh so eatable, smelled so tempting, but he had seen the coating wriggling, shifting slightly. Spencer knew that if they had bit into them in their ravenous hunger they would have ended up with mouthfuls of maggots, wriggling down their throats. Better to be safe. Except he wasn't  _there_  he was  _here_  and…and…"Flashback?"

"Yep," Penelope nodded. "Okay, I'm going to open a jar of spaghetti sauce for dinner and clean this up so it doesn't happen again and take anything breaded off the list of acceptable stuff. But first I am going to make you some of that relaxation tea, all right?"

"Okay." He could use that right about now.

"Go sit down."

"Yes." That was the best plan.

* * *

When it was finally time for bed Spencer went into his go-bag to fetch his pajamas. "What the hell?"

At one point, sometime after breakfast, not long before Penelope was due to arrive, Dave had ducked upstairs. At that point Spencer had already packed; his bag was on the bed ready to go. And he had placed the bear he had found back on the pillow, waiting for Dave's nephew's next visit. But here it was, on top of his bag, looking at him.

All he could do was laugh. It seemed that Poppa Rossi had meant this to comfort him all along.

"Well." He said. "You need an appropriate name. I'm not calling you Kira, that's too weird. Something fit for a Viking though. Hmmm." He pulled out his phone, consulted the 'net. "How about Birger? According to this it means 'protector'. That's a good name for a cuddler, don't you think? But you need to dress the part." He dug out that red bandanna again and tied it back around the bear's neck, and smiled, while it was an unusual gift between two grown men, the intent behind it was remarkably caring and very special. "What do you think Birger? Can you help me feel whole again?" Of course the bear didn't reply. "Well maybe a good night' sleep will be enough. I think that's what you were intended for anyway." Spencer set the bear on the pillow and turned out the light.

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**   
**Day #12**

**Rossi**

"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me the entire story." Hotch said.

"Because I'm not." Dave replied. He settled back, wishing once again that Aaron would invest in decent office furniture. "The peril of leadership, anything I tell you has to be passed up to Strauss at least. I don't even want what I've told you to go that far."

"I know." Aaron got up and paced around the office. "It's just that after all the nightmares we've faced the thought that three men in an alley in DC…."

"I know." Walking home from some weird, artsy show thing, three guys in an alley, it explained all of his symptoms without having to get interstellar with the FBI.

"He's all right?"

"He appears to be. Garcia is taking him to the doctor today. Given that he can run rings around any shrink the FBI tried to send him to the best we can do is give him a chance to move into a more stable phase. I told her to ask the doctor to make him stay home as long as possible, and then if she can put him on desk duty on top of it. And even when he is back in the field the others will keep an eye on him."

"Who else knows?"

"He went to Garcia first, then they went to Emily and then me. And Morgan wouldn't leave anything alone. I don't think anyone has told JJ yet, this is going to be hard on her."

"And it should be his choice of when and how to tell her." Aaron pointed out.

Dave nodded. "I expect it will probably come out sooner rather than later."

"Do you think he's capable of being in the field?"

Dave considered. "Given the way he acted through the Riley Jenkins investigation I think he can probably handle it better than any of us. As a fellow agent I'd want a rock like that beside me any day."

"As a fellow agent?"

Dave nodded. "As his friend I'd rather he pop a fuse at some point. I'm afraid he'll ram this down and carry it the rest of his life. And that is no life to live."

"What can we do?" Aaron asked.

"I don't know yet. But I'm working on it."

* * *

**Office of P. Coleman, MD**   
**1160 Varnum St NE**   
**Washington, DC**   
**Day #13**

**Spencer**

It started out simple enough. Spencer got up, had a shower, chose glasses over contacts, made sure to pick underwear that would not be embarrassing. Penelope had slept over last night, would sleep over tonight. This morning she was making eggs and toast, something simple and light, just in case. He had a television but no cable so he turned on the radio to listen to NPR while he did dishes and she knit.

At the appropriate time she brought him two pills and a large glass of water. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"Nope. Down the hatch."

He swallowed the pills and sat on his couch for a few minutes while she sorted out something in her knitting bag. In the first fifteen minutes nothing seemed to happen. "I don't think they're working Garcia."

"Non-narcotic takes time to kick in, which is good because that means I won't have to navigate you too far. Come on, Esther awaits."

Given that Garcia had the top down Spencer switched to sunglasses for the short trip to the doctor's office. Somewhere along the line he started feeling like his head was floating, and then it started getting very hard to keep his eyes open. So he didn't. He closed his eyes and let himself float right out of his skin. It was so much easier this way.

He was vaguely aware of Penelope stopping, of someone helping him out of the car, of a wheelchair and moving. An elevator triggered a sudden sense of panic through the fog. Was he dreaming this? "Garcia?"

"Right here sweetie." She gently patted his shoulder.

"I couldn't get any signal." It seemed very important to tell her that all of a sudden. It was imperative that she know. "I tried."

"I know hun. Just relax; you're going to be fine." There was a hall, then, all calm colors and a room, clean and bright, and women, gentle women with gentle, efficient hands. "I'll be right outside if you need me." Penelope said.

He slowly grew even less aware of his surroundings. He was placed back in something like a chair, something like a table, but it was soft and padded and comfortable for what it was. There was a sudden sense of coldness, the knowledge that he was naked again, a strange realization that it no longer mattered as much as it used to. There were hands, such gentle hands, fluttering around him, lifting this and tucking that and finally laying something soft and warm over everything. It all felt remarkably kind, and yet there was such sadness to it all, he distinctly felt like he wanted to cry. I wish, Spencer thought. I wish…

Then he felt a touch again, still gentle but more sure, long fingers that cupped and delicately probed. There was something warm and wet and then a gentle, slithering kind of pressure. It could be worse; he thought as he tried to burrow further toward sleep, it could be so much worse. The slithering pressure moved over his skin, at some points hurting badly enough for him to cry out, just a little. "Shhh." A warm, comforting voice said. "That's where the trouble is."

In due time it stopped. Those warm, gentle hands wiped off his skin and covered him up again. Then they returned, or perhaps it was others, and helped him back into his clothing. He went dark for a time, woke to the sense of an elevator, again to the sense of being outside, again to the sense of movement. Garcia put the top up, he realized.

The hardest part was waking enough to walk. He was leaning heavily on Garcia, too heavily, he thought, and so let her prop him against the wall while she unlocked his front door. Then his bed rose up to meet him and Birger snuggled into his arms and he didn't think of anything else for quite a while.

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #33**

**Kira**

Kira glared at the back of her horse's head as the abbey gates came into view. "Conspiracy." She muttered.

"What was that?' Andrew asked.

"Nothing." It took 16 days to get from the City to the Abbey. Sixteen days. But that took into account two days for replacing the inevitable thrown shoe, and for finding a farrier who would work on a war horse. Of course on the trip home Jax and Astri not only managed not to throw a single shoe but they made the sixteen day trip in thirteen, as if they knew that Andrew and Reka badly wanted to get home again.

She didn't.

She didn't want to be home because she wanted everything to be the way it was again. She wanted to open her eyes and have it all be a horrible dream, she was never captured, she was never hurt, she and Andrew never climbed into the mountains to hunt for herbs at all. They sent Eskell up after herbs that day, he who was so old and fat that the flyers would have passed him right by.

But then she never would have met Spencer.

It was that tearing confusion, that she wanted all of it erased and never to forget, that she wanted it to never have happened and all of it to have happened, all of that made her just want to jump on Jax's back and ride and ride, up into the mountains where she could escape everyone and everything and maybe finally find the space to make sense of it all. But that was not to be. No, she had to go back to the Abbey where everything was just the opposite of what she wanted. Everything was going to be different and he was…he was…

The Abbey people knew better than come rushing over, cheering her return. No, they just quietly pulled into the stable yard and Andrew set about unharnessing the horses as some of the stable hands came forward to help with the wagon. Reka climbed down and gave a luxurious stretch as she relaxed, probably for the first time in a month. At least she's glad to be here, Kira thought as she settled on the back gate of the wagon, her legs swinging over the side, not quite willing to get down and actually be here, not yet. No, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the side and tried not to think for a time.

Gradually she realized that the stable yard had gone quiet, and the bustle around the wagon had stopped. She felt someone settle onto the back gate alongside her. If I don't open my eyes, she thought, if I don't open my eyes… but whomever it was just waited and waited with a terrible patience, and finally Kira had to look.

Merina was sitting there, smiling at her. "How do you feel?" She asked softly.

"Fine." Kira replied. "I just need a bath and some clean clothes." And a longer skautet now, she thought with a shiver of embarrassment. But Merina just sat there watching her with those firm yet kindly eyes, letting the silence build and build until she couldn't bear it any longer. "I'm not a patient!" Kira finally told her. "I can still do my work. I can ride and draw a bow and cover my brother's ass if I need to. I'm fine!"

"All right, you're not a patient." Merina agreed. "Are you saying nothing happened?" She asked as she reached up to gently tug the edge of Kira's hood away.

"Don't!" Kira flinched back without thinking. She couldn't bear the touch, any touch. It was almost painful how it felt, like she wanted to jump out of her skin. And the thought of anyone seeing what they had done to her. Ah, but did that not prove Merina's point? Damn it all…

Merina pulled back as calmly as she had moved. "You don't have to move to the patient wing." She said, "You don't have to give up your duties. But let us help you back to a life you can savor again."

That would not be possible, Kira thought, not now. All she could do was look away and sigh. "I don't…I…"

"At least let us help your body heal."

There was just this sadness, this deep sadness around it all. If he was here, she thought, if he was here to hold my hand. But he would want her to do this, she knew that much. So at last she took a deep breath and nodded.

"All right. Come with me." Merina led her to the patient wing, to the treatment rooms there. One had been opened; a fire was going brightly in the hearth, the iron back reflecting the heat to warm the room. There were women in there, silently preparing the table, setting out clean cloths and steaming water but Kira tried not to pay attention to them, tried not to look. Instead she settled into a basket chair by the fire, kept her eyes on that warm, cherry glow. I wish I could feel warm, she thought, warm all the way under my skin. Merina crossed into the path of her vision. "Drink this." She said, pressing a mug of something into Kira's hands. "It will help you relax. Do you want Andrew?"

"No." There were some places her brother could not join her. For a moment the ache she felt around that hole in her heart was eclipsed by the ache around an older, more familiar one. I wish my Mother was here, she thought, to hold my hand through this. I want him and I want my Mother. With neither of them there she obediently sipped at the liquid in the mug. It was hot and bitter, exactly like it should be, she thought, a bitter substitute. The more she sipped the heavier her head became, until she was nodding and near to dropping the mug on the floor. When Merina held her hands briefly as she took the mug Kira did not object.

Then there were hands, gentle, familiar hands helping her to her feet and freeing her from her clothing, a lightly damp cloth passed over each bit of skin as it was revealed to remove the dust of the road. There was some soft, sympathetic coo of dismay when her shorn head was revealed, and a soft skautet was lightly tied around to grant her some covering. But there was no sound at all when they removed her sweater and unwrapped her klut , revealing the wounds that lined her breasts and the torn and scabbed mess of her back and nakken. She felt herself gently bent over, pressed against some soft, warm cushion as her wounds were attended, first with something cool that smelled of alcohol and herbs and that almost burned through the fog in her head, making her hiss with the fire and then with something thick that soothed and eased the last of the pain. When they were done her arms were lifted and she felt a soft, warm shift dropped over her head as she was made to sit up again.

Her boots had been removed long ago, now her trousers were taken, as well as the klut down there, even as another bitter mug was pressed to her lips, each sip leaving her ever more drowsy and light in the head. She knew what was coming, what had to come, and for a moment she was so afraid. No, she thought as they laid her back against the table and her legs were raised and bent, no I cannot do this alone. He must be here, please, we can face anything together. Then there were fingers, cool and gentle and so much smaller than so many things. But they pressed deeply, even as another hand pressed on her belly, they pressed until she felt a pain deep, deep inside and she cried out, and then again before they mercifully withdrew.

It was over then. The hands lowered her shift, tucked it around her knees. She felt a cool draft as a door was opened and closed, and then hands that were wider and familiar were helping her to her feet. Andrew was strong and sure as he guided her into the next room, supporting her until they reached the bed that waited there. Healer's ways, she thought, as he lowered her to the mattress, Father was wrong, he's not too gentle. There's no such thing. Gentle men are wonderful things. I wish there were more than two in the universe.

Then sleep took her down and she knew no more.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

**Spencer' Reid's Apartment**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #14**

**Spencer**

At some point Spencer woke up, groggy from too much sleep. The sedative was only supposed to last two hours at best, but apparently once his mind was down his body took advantage and made up for long nights and nightmares. He climbed out of bed, found his glasses on the nightstand and commenced the zombie walk to the kitchen for coffee.

He found coffee and Penelope, waiting and reading the paper. "Good morning. There is overnight oatmeal and hard boiled eggs, a very healthy, quick breakfast for an ovo-lacto vegetarian."

"Is that what it's called?"

"Uh-huh. Very portable too, if you need to eat on the train in to work. I left recipes."

"Thank you." He was starting with coffee. "What did the doctor say?"

"She had lots of good news and only a little bad news." Penelope placed the file with the reports in front of him. "Her nurse, um, told me before I could tell her that as a friend it's really none of my business."

"It's okay, I don't mind." They were all more than friends, really. "What did she say?"

"Okay, so the good news is that it's just a mild infection with some swelling due to some blood clots stuck in there from whatever damage happaned, and that the samples you gave the day before must have indicated normal Earth kind of bacteria because she didn't say anything about it." Penelope had dragged a bag over from the far side of the counter. Now she started digging things out as she went. "So she gave you an antibiotic to clear it up, and she wants you to take an anti-inflammatory at the max dose until you run out of antibiotics and ice packs, those are already in the freezer, at least three times a day for the next three days." Spencer winced at that but it was standard treatment. "And…do not be embarrassed because I have brothers…support for the next month." She pulled a box with an athletic supporter out of the bag, one of at least four. "I didn't know if you had any and they had them at the pharmacy and you left your clean laundry on top of your go-bag so I snuck a look at the size and got you enough to last through a case."

"Thank you." It was just underwear after all, everyone wore it. He used to wear those things in high school all the time, protection against the occasional kick and harder to wedgie.

"You're welcome. She expects you to make a full recovery in just about a month and not to have any problems making baby geniuses in the future. All that's the good news."

"What's the bad news?"

"Well, until you leave everything alone long enough to heal you're at risk for re-injury, so…" Penelope pulled a sheet of paper out of the file. "Three days of bed rest, or at least couch rest, which puts you out for the rest of the week, and then two weeks on desk duty."

Spencer groaned. "No. I don't want to be stuck at home. I need to go to work. I need the distraction."

"No, you need to take care of your body and give yourself time to process. And before you even think of going there I have already sent a copy to Hotch, he'll just send you right back home."

Well hell. "Did Rossi give him the story we…."

Penelope nodded. "The official-official story is that you took a spill on a bicycle, which the doctor said was the most common cause of this kind of thing. The unofficial-official story is that three guys jumped you in an alley and…well, you know. Because that way everyone is looking out for you, because we do love you and want you all healthy and stuff. Granted Hotch probably knows that the unofficial-official story isn't true either…"

"…but at least I'm not in Paris." Hotch really had no room to complain on that one.

"Exactly. So, stay home. Rest. Apply ice. Read a lot. Watch movies, I can't believe you've never seen the Ring trilogy."

"I can't believe it lived up to the books."

"Oh it did, sweetie. Peter Jackson is a genius. In the meantime I have to go relieve Kevin, who has been holding down my fort. If we need your genius brain I will patch you in through Skype, if you need me for anything then just call and we will be coming by to check on you and make sure you eat dinner, all right?"

"All right," he let Penelope pull him into a hug, something that was still the most comforting thing ever. "Thank you."

"Anytime. You take care of you, okay?"

"I will."

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #34**

**Kira**

Kira woke to the sight of her brother looking through a clothing basket. "You snore." She told him.

Andrew chuckled. "I'm surprised you heard me, you were pretty far gone last night. How many mugs of codladh did they give you?"

"Two, I think. I was kind of fuzzy there for a while."

"Codladh will do that to you. How do you feel now?"

She considered that a moment. "Sore." She admitted. "And I could use a bath." Not a soaking, she didn't think she could face that, but a wash would be good.

"We have time before breakfast. Here." He put the basket on the end of the bed, and then held up the extra large skautet on the top. It was red, and printed in black with a swirling, curving horse design. "From Hilde, she said we didn't give her enough time to finish the embroidered ones, but she's working on them." Kira just shook her head, you never saw ones that large embellished, ever. Wearing one that size was shameful, it meant…. "Hey." He said as he saw the look on her face. "You were doing your duty, protecting my ass. You have no reason to hang your head. And no one here will let you, so knock it off right now."

"All right." He was right; there was no reason to feel shame. She'd done her best the whole way through. And it wasn't shame that she was feeling, but there was something, something thick and heavy puling her down. She just didn't know what it was.

There was a tap on the door then. Since she was still in her shift Andrew went to answer it. It was Merina, with a steaming mug of something in her hands. "Good morning." She said brightly. "How do you feel?"

"Awake. Sore." Kira took a deep breath. "What did they find last night?"

"I'll be right out…" Andrew stepped toward the door.

"No, it's all right." Kira stopped him. "Stay."

Merina smiled gently. "There's no child." Kira let out a deep breath, heard Andrew do the same. "But they were forcing you to readiness as we expected, you're very congested." Kira felt her cheeks burning, there was only one reason why a woman's uteri would fill up with blood, it was getting ready to carry children; her body was preparing to ovulate. But that only happened after you'd been exposed to enough semen, which usually took months….maybe she shouldn't have let Andrew stay. But she didn't ask for this, she had no reason to be ashamed… "Assuming you don't want to start a family right now…"

"Absolutely not." Someday, Kira thought, yes. Maybe in a few years. But not right now.

Merina handed her the mug. "Three times a day until the dark of the moon. That will settle your system and ease the congestion."

The tea was tart with fruit and sweet with honey which helped balance out an astringent tang. "Thank you." She wasn't a patient, not really, but she'd make a point of stopping by the dispensary for this as prescribed.

"Now as for your nakken…" Merina moved to take a look.

"Don't!" Kira shrank away out of instinct, nearly spilling her tea. She couldn't, it was still too much to bear.

Merina pulled back as carefully as she had moved before. "I do understand. But the ciseal is already forming, you know. The longer you put off treatment the harder it will be to remove. Perhaps this should be the first thing we work on together."

"We?"

"I chose this assignment, unless you would prefer someone else."

"No, of course not." Merina was one of the most senior Healers, with extensive training and experience, so much so that she rarely took patients anymore, instead spending her time training other Healers. That she had chosen to work with her was almost an honor. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. We can start after breakfast if you like."

"I have training…."

Merina shook her head. "Not until after the dark of the moon." Kira felt her jaw drop in shock. "That would be far too much pressure on your body right now, you know that. The chances of tearing a ligament and endangering a future pregnancy are too great. You need to rest and heal."

"Besides, you always said you wanted to spend all day in the library." Andrew pointed out. "Now you get to spend all week."

"Don't help." Kira told him. She turned back to Merina. "I'm an archer. I'm not going to go bouncing around out there."

"And you're not going to participate in any of the other exercises?"

Kira was quiet. No, she hadn't thought of that. Hand-to-hand right now, especially with the male Guardians? She didn't think….she couldn't…she remembered what it was like and how….

"Hey, sis," Andrew lightly kicked the bed frame. "Back here with us."

She blinked and refocused on the here and now. Except that was only going to last for so long, if she had to… "Maybe I do need to be a patient for a while." She admitted. "Maybe I should move out of the priory wing."

"I'll be your roommate, if you want." Andrew said.

Kira nodded. They'd shared a loo growing up, it wouldn't be anything new. And having him in earshot… "Thank you."

"There is one thing though. There is one area…" Merina did not touch, but she indicated the back of Kira's neck and a small area just below it along her spine. "…that is untouched. That's unusual, how did that happen?" Oh. Oh that was where it hurt the most. Kira closed her eyes and shook her head; she couldn't share that, not now; maybe not ever. "All right," Merina was still smiling so gently. "You don't have to stop wearing your colors." She pointed out. "And I'm sure Bosc will let you continue to use the range. You'll make it back in due time, I have every faith."

I'm glad you do, Kira thought, because I don't.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

**Spencer**

They had decided to meet that Friday to hear more of Emily's story rather than waiting for Sunday. Dave was the first one to notice that Spencer was rather more pensive than usual. "Okay, I can see the CPU processing, what's going on in there?"

"Actually I was thinking about sex." Spencer replied.

"And I am so glad Morgan and Garcia aren't here yet." Emily replied.

"Not like that, Sisterian sexual biology and mores." He replied. "I finally remembered what was going on, this morning actually."

"Oh?"

"Are you familiar with operant conditioning chambers?"

"Operant…no." Emily admitted.

Dave brought over vegetables for them to help clean. "That sounds familiar but I don't remember from where."

Spencer nodded and started snapping green beans as he talked. "Let me explain."

* * *

**Cage 3-3-8**   
**Storage Facility 3**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**

They were left alone for a solid chunk of time. Spencer didn't dare fall asleep, what had happened the last time he allowed himself to enter a REM state was enough to convince him that true sleep was best avoided. He'd have to wait for a medical visit and sedation to truly rest, which meant he'd have to be hurt again to get there. Goody. For now he just lay there, resting as best he could, listening to Kira's quiet breathing an inch from his ear.

He was hungry.

They had ample access to water but they had not been fed since they arrived. So much had happened that he hadn't even noticed. But now, with literally nothing to do but lie there, he realized that his system was starting to go into back up energy reserves, and he didn't exactly have a lot of those on his frame. Hopefully the creators of this machine hell remembered that their captives need fuel, he thought.

As he lay there, trying very hard not to think of food, the most heavenly scent started wafting into his cell. It was barbeque, roasting meat, as heavenly as any of Will's cookouts, chunks of tri tip charring to the perfect brown, fresh chickens spitted and turning and basting in their own fat, bacon on the griddles of every downtown diner in the lower 48 being prepared to feed every cop coming on shift. It smelled of absolute heaven.

The smell was enough to pull Kira from her sleep. "Oh." She said softly. "What is that?'

"Hopefully dinner." The smell got stronger and then the panel in the back of the opening under the air vent slid over, revealing a panel with a button. Spencer got up, waling awkwardly to avoid the pain of movement and took a look. "Think we should push it?"

"What harm could it do?" Kira replied.

Good point. Spencer pushed the button, the panel slid aside and an object was revealed. It was some kind of breaded square of what had to be food, incased in shrink wrapped plastic, still warm, with steam pooling inside. With no other way of opening it he used his teeth to get through the plastic. This had the effect of breaking the inner crust, filling his mouth with the heavenly flavor of cooked meat and vegetables, something like the filling off a Sheppard's Pie or a good stew. "Delicious." He said to Kira, who eagerly went after her own pouch.

They settled side by side, too hungry to think about conversation while eating, too hungry to even think; which was why Spencer didn't realize what he had done until he was nearly finished. But when it did come to him it nearly knocked him over.

"What?" Kira said as he stopped moving and started trembling. "What is it?"

* * *

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

"A Skinner Box," Dave said. "Now I remember. It's a tool used to train rats. Press the lever, get a food pellet."

"And they were putting people in them." Emily said. "Nice. Could you figure out what they were doing?"

Spencer had never been able to describe how thinking worked for him. It was kind of like swimming underwater, and collecting fish as he went. Now he swam this way…. "Ultimately? They were overriding biological, even survival responses. What they were doing with the hunger-eating response had many functions…"

"Wait, what they were doing with the hunger response?" Emily asked.

"Okay, classical conditioning. The obvious example is Pavlov's dog, smell the food, get a salivary response. Ring the bell every time you present the food to the dog and he begins to associate the bell with the food. Pretty soon he salivates every time you ring the bell, even when there's no food in the house. In humans it can be more complicated, feel hunger, smell the food, push the button, get the food. You'll learn to push the button whenever you're hungry pretty quickly."

"Why not just label the button push for food?" Emily asked. "Wait, illiterate society. But they used pictograms in the Below, why not?"

"They wanted them to associate the smell of food with the sensation of hunger. Once they had the prisoners thoroughly conditioned they started replacing the food packs with contents designed to trigger a punishment response. That is to cause people to push the button less frequently."

"How did they do that?' Dave asked.

Spencer shuddered a little with the memory. "The only way into the food packs was to rip them open with your teeth. Inevitably you'd get a mouthful of whatever was in there. It started out with a savory meat filling, but then they replaced the filling with rotting garbage or maggots or roaches, they changed it up often."

"Oh!" Emily just shuddered at the thought.

"Eventually you'd stop pushing that button, if that's all you were getting." Dave nodded as he calmly sliced potatoes. "But with the smell coming in you'd still be hungry. You'd have to force yourself to ignore your hunger; eventually you'd train yourself out of feeling it any longer. In fact you'd be repulsed by the sensation, your body would be begging you to go push that button and try and get a face full of filth. And if you were repulsed by the sensation you'd be repulsed by the smell as well. Next thing you know you're throwing up in the deli department."

"Exactly, eventually you'd just give up entirely and stop trying." Spencer agreed. "According to Kira, the Abbey referred to it as learning to hate your body."

"And you would have to be coaxed back into trying anything." Emily sighed with the realization. "We had to stop in a village along the way; one of the horses threw a shoe. We were approached by a family who'd recently had their daughter returned to them, she wasn't eating at all and they were terrified they were going to lose her. I watched Andrew sit there with her for over an hour, just to try to get some food into her, she was so far gone."

"Did he?"

"Eventually he got her to start eating what they called Abbey porridge. From the way he explained it, it was a blend of grains and ground legumes designed to maximize what they called the animal essence with a minimal odor, no real taste and a very bland texture." She looked over at Spencer, "Peanut butter on white bread and Lucky Charms."

"Exactly," Dave nodded. "Only animal essence, I bet that meant protein. The UN has come out with a product called PlumpyNut, it's a fortified peanut paste designed to rehabilitate children suffering from starvation during famines. I bet if you took both of them into a lab you wouldn't be far off."

"It's easily made from locally grown ingredients and has a long shelf life?" Emily asked. Dave nodded. "It's similar. We had bags of it in the wagon for those two to eat on the way back; he sent some with that patient when her family set off for the Abbey. If we hadn't been there her family would have watched her starve to death on a farm full of food, helpless to do anything."

"Helpless before the government," Dave pointed out. "That's a good way to control the population, behave or your children are next." He looked over at Spencer. "But what does that have to do with sex?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spencer's memory in this chapter comes directly between Journal entries 08 and 09, in case you're keeping track.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

**Spencer**

"Well, the human sexual response cycle isn't all that different from the hunger response cycle." Spencer told them. "If you can condition responses around one you can condition responses around the other. And how easily you can condition the one in an individual reflects how easily you can condition the other. But it's easier to test and analyze hunger since you can more easily control the variables."

"So they were trying to change their sexuality?" Emily asked.

Spencer nodded. "Based on my observations I'd say yes. Using the female as the example..." Because I am not ready to talk about the male, he thought, "…Masters and Johnson broke the sexual response cycle down into four phases, excitement, plateau, orgasm and resolution. Loudon later added a fifth stage which she called interest or willingness, before the excitement point of the cycle. From what I could tell, male Sisterian biology nearly perfectly matches with male Terran biology in that regard, both are capable of going through all four or five phases in one encounter, as are Terran women. But female Sisterian biology is quite different."

"Keep talking." Dave took his potatoes over to the kitchen proper to start working on dinner, but he was still within hearing range.

"Sisterian women are not inherently orgasmic, at least not from birth. In addition they don't have a menstrual cycle like Terran women. Instead they have a feedback loop that reacts in the first case to sexual stimulation and in the second to the presence of semen in the reproductive tract. In order to become fertile and sexually mature Sisterian women need a long period of what might be called proto- sexual play and then pre-sexual play to fully make their way through the response cycle."

"Proto-play?" Emily asked.

"Physical activities that develop what you referred to as the mind-body connection, which encouraged them to be fully present within the body and to focus on the senses. Um, dance, playing music, singing, horseback riding, preparing and consuming meals, creative endeavors, even preening activities and those hot baths you talked about, all of it formed the basis for them to enter Louden's Interest stage, a process that could take anywhere from one to three years. After that would come a period of flirtatious play with whoever could fit the appropriate parameters for a partner in the community until one was singled out and they'd enter what we'd call the excitement phase, activities would gradually become more erotic and as a result their bodies would start changing, what we would call arousal. The first time out this could take up to three months while their bodies literally physically adapted to accommodate the changes."

"But their bodies wouldn't change like that until they were stimulated?" Emily said.

"No, it was a feedback mechanism, the more they were stimulated the more they could be stimulated. It was…it was as if their breasts didn't develop until they were already engaging in…heavy petting activates with a partner, except in their case the changes were internal. During this phase partners would expect to spend time together daily if not more so to engage in some sort of sexual play."

"Three months to warm up a virgin." Dave chuckled. "Those were some patient guys."

"Once they reached the plateau phase things would quickly progress to the orgasmic stage, within a single encounter." Spencer said.

"Wait a minute; they were walking around turned on for three months?" Emily asked

"More than that, the refractory phase, when the body returns to normal after orgasm could last up to a month, but if they allowed themselves to return to a state of zero arousal they would have to go through the whole three month excitement phase again. Ideally they would resume pre-sexual play within at most seventy-two hours of attaining orgasm thereby not letting their arousal actually die down. In addition every time they completed a cycle their bodies became more accustomed and it became easier and faster next time, forming a positive feedback loop leading directly to reproduction. It had the side effect of near constant arousal during the fertile years of their lives, waxing and waning but only broken by pregnancy and nursing. The Missionaries referred to this as being fully alive and was seen as the ideal state."

"So the entire planet was like that?' Dave asked.

"No, that was the problem. The society in the villages at least was extremely patriarchal and the men there didn't want to wait around for the women to become aroused enough to welcome actual intercourse. So instead they based their societal mores on the idea that only men were supposed to enjoy sex, 'decent' women didn't feel pleasure at all. Young women were denied any form of proto-pleasure, singing, dancing and creative expression were forbidden, flirting and preening exercises were seen as sinful, even spiced foods and most forms of physical exercise were condemned. All women were supposed to do was work and pray. Marriages were arranged, usually as soon as the woman's body completed development of external secondary sex characteristics as that was the ideal time to program the mind for arousal, or to shut down the development of such programming all together. Once married the couple would immediately begin daily intercourse, giving her no time to learn to take pleasure from any other act. The idea was that the women would never know what they were missing and so they wouldn't say no to giving the men what they wanted."

"That explained why that village was such a drab, depressing place, especially compared to the abbey." Emily nodded. "No one cared. And why some of the villagers actually called us whores while we were walking down the street, by comparison the Missionaries must have been seen as licentious."

Spencer nodded. "The associated biological reaction was that once the chemicals in semen were absorbed into the blood stream through the mucosa membranes in the reproductive tract the woman's body would start working toward ovulation. A…daily dose was required over a number of weeks before her uterine lining would develop and she would ovulate. That was actually a benefit to the species, the women's bodies didn't waste energy preparing for ovulation without knowing if it would occur, and it meant that there was a regular partner around to protect the mother through pregnancy. Once a woman became pregnant her body would change in ways that would prevent sexual arousal, and not change back until her child was weaned. Or children, twins were the most common form of pregnancy. Given the gestation period and that initial three month arousal period that would naturally space pregnancies almost two years apart, giving mothers a chance to recover and ensuring that infants had the best possible start. But because they didn't respect the woman's cycle often women would become pregnant within two or three months of the last pregnancy, with the expected results on maternal and infant outcomes."

Emily's eyes sparked with anger. "Someday someone is going to rebel against that."

"And when they do they'll remember that the people in blue and white taught them that there was a better way." Dave pointed out. "And that the folks in red and black protected them. You said that the Guardians were always training?"

"Of course," Emily gasped. "They weren't just bodyguards; Mother Abbot was training the Guardians to be an officer's corps."

"Exactly," Dave nodded. He turned back to Spencer. "So, how did life in a Skinner box change their sexuality?"

"Let me guess." Emily spoke up. "With no warm-up women were expected to just lie there and think of England. In a situation like that even the guys weren't having that much fun. The ideal woman would be one who enjoyed what the guys were dishing out and want more."

Spencer nodded. The analysis kept it all remote, he could almost believe this all happened to someone else, that he'd read it in a file and was now regurgitating it for his co-workers. "A Skinner box is already designed to limit stimulation, in addition if the women were captured with any kind of significant other they would be kept together, knowing that the violation of sacred sexual norms would quickly destroy the relationship and any support they had there. Then they would…flood them with semen to quickly make them reach the point where they were near to ovulating, when they would become the most sensitive…." Oh. Oh, he couldn't remember that. It was right there but it was too hard…

They must have seen his face. "Skip that part." Dave said, gently. "We'll come back to it when you're ready."

Spencer did, carefully turning two pages in that mental file. "…ahem, anyway they would only allow specific forms of stimulation. With nothing else eventually the women would become conditioned to respond only to those stimuli, up to and including reaching orgasm."

"In other words, the ideal slut," Emily nodded. "But they couldn't have captured one for every man, even for every wealthy technocrat."

"Technocrat," Dave mused as he stirred a pot. He looked over at Spencer. "Don't answer this if you're not comfortable but I'm betting that they had an internet."

Emily groaned as it hit her. "And the internet was built for porn. That was why they had an annual quota of new faces."

"And why they'd condition the women to respond to stimuli so far outside their biology." Dave looked over at Spencer. "You haven't talked about the men yet." Spencer just shook his head; he was not ready to go there, at all. "All right," Dave said kindly. "If they were conditioning people not to eat as a way of testing how easy they were to condition then how did people stay alive for the full year?"

This was safer ground. "We were periodically taken to what looked like a medical ward and sedated." Spencer replied. "I suspect we received IV nutrition at that time."

"But once they came off of that support, once they were back in the community, most of the victims would just waste away." Emily said, "Back to the idea of government control. But even the ones who did survive would have to go through the extended refractory period…"

"All the while craving something the community considered sinful and taboo." Dave followed her thought. "And knowing that they were never going to be stimulated to pleasure in any way again, and having to endure the shame of being marked as a whore in front of the community if they lost their hair. I'm guessing the most common cause of death after starvation was suicide."

"It was." Spencer replied. "From what Kira explained the Missionaries would provide medical and psychological support through the re-feeding and refractory period, then therapy to overcome the trauma and finally help them and their partners approach their sexuality from a female-based perspective."

"Rather than telling the women to speed up they taught the guys to slow down." Emily nodded.

"And then everyone gets to enjoy playtime." Dave agreed. "I'd go for that. And if there wasn't someone to play with in a survivor's life a surrogate would be provided until you were well and truly on your way. Which, given the rape trauma, probably took twice as long the first time."

"Andrew." Emily said. "That was his gift. That man exuded patience, he was practically Buddha. If anyone could endure three to six months of blue balls it would be him."

"Uh-huh." Dave agreed. "But if he's their go-to guy for helping unattached females learn what their bodies can do who's going to teach his sister?"

Just then Morgan and Penelope got to the door. Spencer had never been more grateful.

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

**Emily**

"So, are we going to get more of the story?" Morgan asked as he started clearing the table.

"Well that is what we're here for." Dave had set a no-alien policy over dinner, probably to give Emily a chance to eat. But now dinner was over and there was coffee or tea or rich wine and cookies and time in a warm, pleasant room, all of which made it the perfect place for a story. The problem was that she remembered it all now, how much to tell?

"I'd love to hear more about the political structure." Dave said. "You said you spent one night in a village, any more to that?"

"Politics?" Penelope grinned. "I want to hear more about Andrew."

"There isn't really anything more to say about the village, they spoke a different dialect than the Abbey people, I wasn't getting every word of it. And as for Andrew…I mean, we talked a lot. There wasn't anything much else to do. We were either riding in the wagon or walking it."

"Walking?" Morgan asked.

"That's what I said. Reka was trying to get us in shape for getting through the underground part of the city. I was dammed glad of it when we got there too. But, I mean, we talked. We were both too worried about these two…" She waved her hand at Spencer, "…to really do any more."

"That's all, huh?" Penelope asked, clearly disappointed.

"Yeah." Emily said.

* * *

" _I think I really like melea." Emily said as she leaned back against the rock._

_Once again they were camped at the edge of some farmer's field. The horses were resting; dinner was both eaten and cleaned up. The farmer had traded them his war horse mare spending some quality time with Jax the stallion in exchange for two barrels and a jug of something called melea, which turned out to be sweet and thick and very, very alcoholic. The barrels were meant for trading further down the line, but the jug had been breached. One tankard had already sent the smaller, slender Reka to bed early, but Andrew the mountainous was on his second with no effects so far. Emily was just finishing her first, and was debating. On the one hand it was really, really yummy stuff. On the other hand she was already kinda blitzed... "Okay, just a little more." She indicated maybe a quarter of her tankard. It was warming her up nicely after all._

_Andrew obligingly put just a little more into her tankard. "So, you were telling me about your son."_

" _Oh, no. Declan isn't my son. Ian wanted him to be my son, or wanted me to be his mother. And maybe mother to a few others, it was hard to tell."_

" _Ahh. I didn't know this 'infiltrating' included that kind of a relationship."_

" _It normally didn't but sometimes you had to…what, you think that was wrong of me?"_

_Andrew shook his head. "No, not at all; a good Guardian does what needs to be done. But this Ian does not sound kind or gentle…"_

" _No. Kind and gentle would not describe Ian Doyle, ever."_

"… _which would not make him a good person to play with…"_

" _I don't think he ever knew how to play, even as a kid."_

"… _which would not make him a good lover."_

_Oh, now hold on there. "Well…um…well…yeah, I faked it a lot with him. He wasn't…but then who is? I mean, isn't it always about the guy?"_

" _It shouldn't be."_

" _Yeah but…"_

" _You know what I think." Andrew looked down to catch her eye, something strong and gentle and twinkling and impossibly attractive on his face. "I think your Healer might not be the only one wanting healing when we get back."_

* * *

"Yeah, that's all." Emily replied. "Just talking. That and a lot of time watching the wheat grow. The Abbey was in the foothills, and the City was in the center of this large, plains area. It was like walking across Kansas or something, there was a lot of grain. Eventually we got to the loading platforms….

**Loading Platform 27**   
**City Gateway 9**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

At twilight they left the horses and wagon in a clump of trees around a creek about a mile distant. Andrew had unpacked a bag from the very depths of the wagon, one that instantly caught Jax's attention. "Kira's bedroll," he explained as Jax lowered his fearsome, fanged muzzle to absorb the scent. "He won't leave where he thinks she'll be and Astri won't leave him. And with them here no one will dare make a try for the wagon. Now I just have to leave them dinner for a few days."

Leaving dinner for a few days meant killing the thing that looked a lot like a yak that had been tied to the back of the wagon all day. Before they broke camp that morning twenty miles back they had traded the farmer the barrels of melea for the poor beast. Now she and Reka shouldered their packs and picked up Andrew's as he covered its face with a melea soaked cloth to keep it calm and then started leading it over to the war horses.

"Aren't you going to kill it first?" Reka asked, "Might be kinder."

"It takes a  _verk-se_  to get through this hide." He replied, patting the large, shaggy beast. "I wasn't expecting to get a male or one this old; I don't have one with me."

Emily looked over at Reka. "Is anyone around here?"

"Not this close to the City. Not for a good ten leagues." The older woman replied.

Emily looked over at her companions. "Hold on to the horses, this is going to be loud." When they had the horses well in hand she walked over to the yak and looked it over. While it wasn't sick, it was clearly reaching the end, at the point in its life where a humane end would be a mercy. "Thank you for everything." She said to the shaggy beast. Then she pulled out Spencer's revolver, judging it better for this than her Glock, pressed it to the beast's forehead, and fired.

The beast dropped instantly, never having any time to feel pain.

She turned to see Andrew and Reka trying to calm Jax and Astri, respectively, both of them staring at her with shocked eyes. "What?"

"That's some tool you have there." Reka said finally.

"No, that was Spencer's."

"Remind me not to ask about yours."

They picked up the packs and moved a distance away while Andrew dragged the carcass over and unmuzzled the horses. A few minutes later he joined them. "Well, they have water, food for four or five days, good cover and probably won't go anywhere. Now what?"

"Now we get naked." Reka said. She reached up and pulled off her  _skal-va_ as they walked, tucking it into her pocket. "No one wears them down there, or any color. They'll catch the attention of the Watchers right quick. Your size is bad enough." Emily took hers off and tucked it away, but it took Andrew a moment. "You'll survive." Reka told him as he reluctantly folded it into his bag. "And kinda handsome there too."

"I agree." Emily said, and then she grinned at his discomfort.

"This way," Reka led them over a rise in the landscape, beyond which Emily could just see the tops of some structures, the first large ones they'd encountered since the Abbey. They turned out to be grain elevators, all clustered around a very busy rail yard and lit with the first electrical lights Emily had seen since she landed. "The trains are automated. I doubt anyone comes out here unless something goes wrong. I had a friend who worked on the unloading platform on the other end; he said that they lock the loads down with these force shields to keep them from toppling when they go down the ramps. He knew a few guys who tried to get into a load before they were lifted and ended up fried. What we're going to need to do is get onto a train before it gets past the lock down bars above the tracks and then stay out of the field. Given the ride on the way up I'd say it's going to be quite a thing on the way down."

"How will we know when to get off?" Emily asked.

"I'll tell you." Reka replied.

It wasn't that hard to infiltrate the rail yard. The fence was sagging, with large holes that were easy enough to climb through. The harder part was hiking across the gravel and around some puddles as deep and large as small ponds. Reka pointed out some cameras, some of which had the distinct red light that meant that they were on. They avoided those and headed for where the trains were lining up to enter one of many openings that seemed to lead into the very bowels of the earth. "That one," Reka said at last, and led them toward one that was kind of backed up a bit, waiting its turn. The cars were hoppers, filled with grain, with just enough space on the small platforms front and back for three people to sit curled up. Or two, if one was Andrew's size

They climbed onto the back end of one and settled, hanging on to the steel frame and making sure that they were nowhere near the edge while Reka climbed on to the one facing. Andrew looked over at her, terror in his eyes. "Have you ever been underground before?" He asked.

"Sure." Train tunnels, the Metro, catacombs, wine cellars, Emily could think of a dozen examples. "You?"

Andrew shook his head. "Never. I grew up on a farm." He reminded her.

All of a sudden the cars started moving, bumping together as they banged. It was harder to hang on with the movement than she liked, she ended up having to lock arms around the superstructure to not get too close to the edge and try not to move. "It's not too late to wait with the wagon." She pointed out.

He shook his head. "Sister," was all he needed to say.

Over time the twilight turned to night beyond the glare of the overhead lights. She was exhausted already, worn out by speed and bumps and having to hold stiller than she'd like to stay within the force field surrounding the train once they passed beneath the glowing blue bar and it hummed to life. She hadn't expected this to happen at night, hadn't expected to be able to see the great gas giant hanging in the sky above her, its rainbow of colors still taking her breath away.

"Here we go." Reka called from the other car.

Emily looked over at Andrew. He looked terrified. She took his hand and held on tight and remembered that he'd never done this, had never even been inside a building larger than the abbey hall, had never been where he couldn't quickly feel the wind on his face or the grass under his feet. She was once again reminded of Spencer, and the kind of strength that yielded and bended rather than holding hard and fast. But those who held hard and fast can shatter if hit wrong or too often, while those who bent never did break. Which kind am I, she thought, will I bend to this place or will I break?

Then the sound of the train changed as it slowed, and blackness swallowed up the sky.

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 37**

**Emily**

"There I was, sitting on an open platform; riding a train that covered about a mile in length and over a half-mile down, and twists and turns and corkscrews, the only thing we didn't do was flip over. No safety harness, inches away from a guaranteed electric shock and all the while sharing my perch with a Viking who was fighting off claustrophobia." Emily told them. "Let me tell you, I will never ride a roller coaster again."

"Is that where you lost your rosary?" Dave asked.

"No. As much as I wanted to have it out it was one of the only two things that ever broke through Andrew's Zen state. We stopped at a lake for the night a couple of days into the trip and I pulled it out, you know; nothing else I could do at that point. When he spotted it he was furious. He begged me not to pray on the trip, he was terrified that it would call the attention of the Dark God and his sister would come to greater harm for it."

"Wait, he asked you not to pray?" Morgan asked. "That doesn't sound right."

"Actually according to their belief system praying for someone is a sure way to worsen a situation." Spencer replied. "The Síochánta Missionaries are monotheistic dystheists, they believe that God is actually an evil trickster who delights in tormenting humanity and then lies to convince people that he is the only one who can relieve their suffering just so he can take energy and pleasure from their fawning worship while laughing at them"

"Seriously?" Penelope asked. "How can you live in a world like that?"

"They believed that it was their duty to try to relieve the suffering of humanity and in that way fight against the will of God and cause people to give him less attention and worship thereby denying him power. That's why they set up the Abbey in the first place." Spencer told them. "That's also how they got their reputation as libertines. Even though they practiced monogamy they believed in enjoying life as much as possible in defiance of God as they saw him, including a healthy sex life, hence the importance placed on sexual pleasure. It actually fits what we know about their history, for one thing one of the classic trickster gods in the…the Earth-based pantheon is Loki, the trickster god of Norse mythology."

"Well that makes sense." Dave pointed out. "If you're a Viking who made a wrong turn, ended up on another planet and can't get home, who else are you going to blame?"

Spencer nodded. "The other factor would be the government-sponsored religion. Kira refused to talk about it, citing the same concern as her brother, that it would attract the attention of the Dark God and somehow our treatment would be worse but she did point to a high level of corruption in the priesthood and their possible connection with the disappearances as evidence of the Dark God working in society."

"I'd say it was more than a possibility." Emily said. "When we stopped in that village and saw that girl who had recently been released her parents said she was taken the day after she publically turned down the local pastor's offer of marriage. He then told everyone he was glad she had turned him down given that she was sinful enough for God to take her away."

"How did her family know it wasn't God?" Dave asked.

"She was taken in front of her little brother." Emily replied. "Apparently the pilots of those drones considered him too young to be a credible witness but their parents believed him."

"Good for them." Morgan said. "So what happened when you got off the roller coaster?"

* * *

**Level 5**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**

**Then**

"Oh!"

At Reka's signal the three of them had hopped off the now slowly moving train cars, hopped up on the narrow ledge beside the tracks and into a shadowy tunnel where they stopped to catch their breath. Big mistake. As Emily watched a handful of grain fell off the cars and bounced along the ledge and into the tunnel. The grain wasn't a problem but everything came through here and whatever fell off was left to rot in the darkness. At every step they were squishing into layers of rotten produce. The gasses coming off made it hard to breathe.

"Come on." Reka lit a torch, revealing the piles of filth, and making the roaches covering the walls scurry away. Emily felt the brush of furry bodies on her ankles as rats ran from the fire. "Got to get past this part and get our bearings. Anyone comes at us, Emily, use that weapon of yours."

"Someone will hear." And if I miss it'll ricochet and take us out, she thought.

"No one down here matters."

Reka led them deeper into the tunnels. Thankfully at one point they turned a corner and left the worst of the filth behind. Emily spotted a pile of spoor against one wall. "That's too big for a rat." She said. "Dogs?" Dogs gone wild in here would be a major danger.

"No, human; a dog would be dinner down here." Reka waved her torch at a wall, scaring the bugs away before leaning close to listen. "We're getting close."

"Close to what?" Andrew asked.

Reka didn't answer. Instead she turned back to Emily. "You've been in a city before, yeah?"

"Yeah," they had discussed it on the trip, among other things.

"Keep him between us, don't let yourselves get separated." Reka stopped to listen to the walls again, "Should be right up here." Right up here turned out to be a door. She extinguished her torch and left it there. "Here we go."

The first thing that hit Emily when the door opened was the sound. It was like a muffled jet engine or a massive waterfall, this constant dull roar, pulsing and waving in the distance. The second was the smell, garbage still, and hot metal and hot dust and hot cooking oil that had gone bad a while ago and ought to be changed and over and under it all the smell of uncountable unwashed bodies. And then, as they went down another twisting hall it was the light up ahead. It was electrical cold, the dead green-white of fluorescents, mixed with what had to be the flickering color of neon.

"Andrew was staring at the light, wide-eyed. "What is it?" he asked, too pale even for the light. "What is this place?"

"It's all right." Emily moved forward and took his hand. "We'll get through it together. Remember, Spencer and Kira are counting on us." He looked at her, swallowed and nodded and they hurried to catch up to Reka.

The older woman had stopped at one corner. Now she reached out an arm and stopped them there. "Look." She said.

Opening off the corner was a large, underground hall. It was as wide as a city boulevard, the ceiling too low to keep it from feeling cramped, and it went off into the distance in both directions until it vanished. And it was lined, crowded,  _packed_  with masses and masses of people.

Reka looked over at them. "Welcome home."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

**Emily**

"How many people are we talking?" Morgan asked.

"It was a good sized city down there." Emily replied. "There were probably hundreds of thousands all living in this enclosed space, piled in like sardines."

"Why?" Penelope asked, clearly disturbed by what she was hearing.

"Reka said that they told her that there had been some kind of disaster, that outside was too toxic for people any longer so their ancestors built the city as a safe place to live. I don't know if that was propaganda or not."

"Maybe both," Spencer said.

"How so?"

"Well, look at the average city, especially here in the US. It can't support itself; most cities only have a 72 hour food supply at best. They have to bring in food from long distances, relying on fossil fuels. If those fuels ran out the cities would have to contract and turn what we call the suburbs and exurbs into farmland in order to bring in fresh foods. You'd have to pack the population into the smallest possible footprint to bring the agricultural land in as close as possible. Your only option would be to use the last of your resources to go up or down."

"Or up and down," Dave pointed out. "Put the industry below the living spaces. And then the people who work in those industries close to their jobs to save on resources for moving them."

"Or that was an excuse." Morgan said. "That's a good reason to get the poor, brown people out of the city."

"No, they were all colors down there." Emily told him, "But poor, oh yeah."

"I wonder how they chose who went where." Penelope said.

Emily considered this a moment. "It was fairly temperate while we were out, a light sweater during the day but you were glad for the fire and a wool blanket at night, but at the same time it seemed to be the prime growing season. And Reka did say she was glad we weren't traveling in the winter, she and Clancey could never handle the cold. Andrew thought that was funny. And she did say that the aboveground portion of the city was domed over."

"That supports the conclusion." Dave agreed. "You could have the freedom of the great outdoors but you only get firewood to make it through the winter. People who didn't want to go endure the weather without fossil fuels, if we assume that, could live in the city but would have to live underground, probably unless they could buy their way into the dome above. Now let's say they weren't so much out of resources as wanting to stretch what they had."

"Or they found new supplies." Morgan nodded, "or invented new technology. But the people in the dome didn't want the ugly factories or the ugly people cluttering up their view so they never let them out."

"You passed by villages and farmhouses as you traveled." Dave said to Emily. "Did the style of architecture change along the way?" She nodded. "Let me guess, stone up in the foothills, which changed abruptly to modern pre-fab which aged as you got closer to the city. And as you got closer to the city the people changed as well, they grew smaller and came in more colors."

Emily pictured it in her mind. "That's right, exactly."

"After they shrank their footprint the city expanded outward again." Spencer said as he nodded with Dave. "Only this time more farmland to support the overcrowding in the underground. Eventually they ran up against villages on the far side of the plains settled by descendents of the natives and the…the Viking colony."

"With a completely different culture, starting with the religious base," Dave agreed. "I'm surprised it hasn't come to war."

"That's probably because the City leaders rely so much on automation." Spencer pointed out. "So long as you delivered the grain they left you alone but if you didn't they use flyers, automatic drones, to attack."

"Or just take your children." Morgan said. "That's a quick way to stop a tax protest."

"Well whatever they were doing with their resources they weren't spending any of it to maintain the lower levels." Emily said. "Everything seemed to be broken, even the concrete walls were cracked. And there were rats everywhere, even roaches out in the open, and no one cared. And everyone down there was filthy, they charged for water so people used as little as possible." She spotted the look on Spencer's face and wished she could change the subject. But all she'd been able to think at the time was that their Dr. Reid, their fastidious, mildly germaphobic Dr. Reid had been locked down there with all that filth, and those people were…were…

"You know, I have ice cream." Dave said. "Anyone want?"

Yes, a break for ice cream was an excellent idea.

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #37**

**Andrew**

Andrew was just about to tip back his nightly mug of ale when he saw a familiar figure walking past the windows outside of the hall.

Well hell.

A few moments later he was running down the corridor, trying to catch up to the woman walking away from him. "Hey." He called out. "Where are you going, Gilby's about to get his fiddle out. There's going to be dancing."

Kira turned and looked at him. "I can't dance, remember. No bouncing."

He sighed. "You can still listen. You can even sing…" His sister's face chilled over at the suggestion. "What?" He asked gently.

"I don't want to sing." She turned and started heading back toward the patient wing.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't." For a moment he saw her temper burn through the ice she was building around herself. It was good to see. "I don't want to sing, I don't want to dance, I don't want to sit and listen to stories. I just want to go to bed."

"Kira." She was pulling into herself, pulling away and he had no idea how to catch her. Other patients were begging for help by now but not his sister.

"Leave me be Andrew. Please." All he could do was watch her walk away.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 37**

**Emily**

"So," Emily spoke up as they moved to the kitchen for ice cream. "If this whole food thing is a conditioned reflex is there a way to uncondition it?" The person she was asking was too quiet. "Reid?" They all turned to see Spencer leaning up against the door frame, trying to school his face. But they had all been reading people for years; they knew that something had just hit him, some memory that was causing him deep distress. "Spencer?"

"It's, um, called systematic desensitization," he said in a voice too calm and too distant, "or graduated exposure therapy. First you have to learn relaxation skills in order to handle fear and anxiety responses connected to specific triggers. Once you learn those skills you use them to react towards and overcome situations in an established hierarchy of fears. The goal of this process is that an individual will learn to cope and overcome the fear in each step of the hierarchy."

"How long does it usually take?" Emily asked, keeping his focus on her. Behind him she could see Morgan opening his mouth to ask what the hell and Penelope giving Morgan the Look of Imminent Doom to stop him from saying anything.

"Three to four months."

"Goal," Penelope said, turning from her silent argument with Morgan, "Christmas dinner."

"I could probably find a therapist in the area who specializes in that kind of treatment. I can always blame the causation on an Unsub." Spencer continued, accepting a bowl of ice cream with a murmur of thanks. "I might need help with the homework though; I don't really know how to cook."

"I think Penelope and I can help with that part." Dave said, with Penelope nodding her agreement.

"Thank you."

They all settled in and then Morgan looked up. "Okay, so what happened underground?"

* * *

**Level 5**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**

**Then**

"That's why you had us switch to these bags." Emily looked at the masses of people and nodded her understanding as she draped an arm over the bag she wore across her body, much like a very familiar messenger bag. Andrew had objected to them, pointing out that packs would be easier to carry but Reka had insisted, "Pickpockets."

"Yep. Hold on." She stepped into the path of a boy walking by. "Hej knabo." She held out a hand with a coin in her palm. "Komerci vin pro orelon policanoj. En via karto."

"Kial?"

"Ĉu vi volas aŭ ne?" The boy nodded and scampered off. "I don't want us to move until they get back."

"They?" Andrew asked.

Reka nodded and flagged down another child the same way. "What language are you speaking?" Emily asked.

"City, I had to learn the Abbey dialect when we got there, and then the Villager the first time we went out." She shrugged. "It wasn't that hard."

"We call that being a polyglot."

"Never did learn the reading and writing part, not like those two." She nodded back at Andrew. "Seems like him and Kira can pick up anything out of a book."

"Autodidactic. Like Spencer."

Reka flagged down a third child. That done she looked back, "Don't lean against that wall like that." She told Andrew.

"Why?" He looked and then jumped, sending roaches and other bugs raining down. Emily helped him knock them off his shoulder. "How can people live like this?"

Reka shrugged. "The city is old."

Andrew glared at her, offended. "Old or not, that doesn't mean they should let it get filthy. Or walk around filthy; I've been in cleaner smelling swine barns."

"Water costs." Reka looked at him calmly. "When it's a choice between eating and bathing which are you going to take?"

"What happens if people can't afford water to drink?" He asked.

Reka didn't answer.

Emily turned to Andrew. Even the truly gentle, the truly peaceful have a breaking point, and he was so very close to his. "Andrew." She said quietly. "Not right now."

"They're people!" He said. "Human beings being kept down here like rats! Are people treated like this on your world?"

She wanted to say no, she ached with the desire to say no. But she'd traveled too much with her mother, for Interpol, she'd seen some parts of the world... "Some. I wish I could say no, but some."

"Is anyone trying to do anything about it?"

That she could answer, and honestly, "Some. People are trying to make it better for everyone."

"That's more than we're doing." He was so angry, so disgusted by it all. "All we do is hide in our fortress as far from here as we can get and tell ourselves we're making a difference while this…this…"

"Hey!" She had to stop this; she had to stop him right now, before they went out there. "You said you were a Guardian for six months?" He nodded. "Well soldier you need to focus on the mission. We are here to find Kira and Spencer and get them out, period. Not to save everyone and not to start a war. In and out and under the radar, that's it."

"Besides, when the war does happen, if you're still around, you're not going to be soldiering." Reka said her attention still on the wide hall of people. "You've got a different job, Healer."

"I'm not helpless!" Andrew insisted. "I know how to fight!"

"A lot of folks know how to fight," Reka replied, still calm. "Not that many know how to heal."

"She's right." Emily agreed. "In my unit we have five people who could pass for a Guardian, but only one who could pass for a Healer. Think about it."

"Besides, when the time comes…" Reka paused to swap a coin for a package with the first of the boys before she looked back. "…and it will come, you're going to do the first thing any soldier does. Follow orders."

Emily looked up at Andrew. He was no less disgusted, no less angry, but their words had gotten through and he had a hold on his temper. "I know." He said at last. "But seeing all these people…I just want to help them."

Boy did that sound familiar. "I know. But Kira and Spencer come first."

As she watched Andrew's shoulders finally relax Emily felt Reka tap her on the shoulder. When she turned the other woman pushed a package into her hands. "Ear guards; keep them on at all times." They were similar to the ones they wore on the shooting range, if a bit less bulky, and had ear covers that would rotate up on one side. "Turn them up to talk. We go single file. Follow me; I'll keep us in the through-lanes. Keep Andrew between us, he's not used to crowds. Watch for my hand signals. Keep one hand over your bag at all times, we don't want anyone here getting into those weapons. And expect to get hit and groped, people do, accept it. Just don't stop until I tell you or you'll get trampled. Got it?"

Emily nodded. "How far do we have to go?" Andrew asked.

"About 40 leagues, mostly up." Reka replied. Emily blinked, that was probably close to forty miles. All of a sudden the roar of the crowd seemed to drop. "Day shift started, along with school. It's emptier. Let's take advantage."

And with that they headed out.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

**Emily**

"And then we walked and we walked and we walked." Emily told them. "We'd walk about a half mile and then there would be a ramp, curved, very much like an on-ramp, about a quarter mile, that would lead to the next level. And then we'd walk to the next one and go up, and then the next one and….yeah, it was like that. And yes, people punched us at times as we walked; probably misplaced aggression and yes, we got groped but given Sisterian biology they kept aiming between my shoulder blades instead of for my ass." She shrugged. "It could have been worse."

"Where did you sleep?" Penelope asked. "Were there bathrooms along the way?"

"Reka took us down a hallway off the main drag; she said the doors were apartments, tiny, tiny apartments. We took over an empty corner at the end and took turns standing guard while the others slept. They had what they called public sanits which were…disgusting and rape central but Andrew stood almost a foot above everyone and about two foot wider at the shoulder so no one gave him grief."

"And no one questioned your being there?" Dave asked. "No guards or anyone official?"

"No." Emily replied. "I didn't even see anyone official until we got to the guard at the facility where they were being held. What looked like emergency vehicles went by a few times but they didn't stop."

"That is not what I expected." Dave said.

"So how did you bust him out?' Morgan asked.

"Bribery."

* * *

**Level 64**   
**Storage Facility 3**   
**Capitol City**   
**Little Sister**

**Then**

"Kiu faros por komenco." The guard said to Reka as she dropped another handful of gold coins into the pass drawer.

"Por komenco?" Reka asked.

In reply the guard nodded to Emily, then smiled at her, slowly.

She groaned. "Oh, that is not going to happen." Being a guard might pay well, but this guy hadn't washed since the Regan era. She shook her head to get the point across. In reply the guard simply shrugged and turned back to his TV, ignoring them and the gold in the drawer. "Damn it….wait." Emily looked at Reka. "How do people around here feel about diamonds?"

Reka put an eyebrow up. "If anything would buy you a ticket upstairs…"

"Hey." Emily whistled for the guard's attention as she pulled her rosary out of her pocket. It was made of gold plated fittings and aurora borealis crystals, sumptuous and showy; the kind of thing that the US Ambassador might have blessed by the Pope for her only daughter's confirmation. Emily had tried to come back to her faith recently, and tried to repair things with her mother, but neither was worth a tenth of what her team meant to her. So she had no problem spilling the beads into her hand, letting them catch the light and glitter with a thousand rainbows. Those rainbows caught the guard's wholehearted attention. "I want both of them for it." She said as Reka translated, "The elevator down to the loading docks and no guards between here and the trains. Give me all of that and you can have the entire bag, I'll leave it in the elevator for you."

The guard looked at the beads, looked at the three of them, considered…and nodded. "Mi bezonas ian markon por trovi ilin." He said, turning to his screen.

"Did either of them have any marks or scars?" Reka asked.

Andrew shook his head. "Yes." Emily replied. "He has scars around his left knee. She came in with him."

The guard checked something on a touch screen, nodded, checked again, looked at Andrew and nodded. "Atendu." He said, and then cleared the gold out of the tray. "La lifto malsupren tiu salono, fine."

It took about ten minutes. Ten minutes of waiting, of gut twisting nerves, of constantly looking over their shoulders. Ten minutes, but then there was a sound behind the door next to the guard shack, and a clank, and then the doors split open and revealed the most heavenly sight. "Spencer!"

"Emily!" He was skinner than he had been, too pale, and he looked weary, worn and older somehow. But he was standing and walking and then his arms were around her and holding on tight. "I knew you would come." He said to her , making her heart fly to the heavens.

"Andrew!" Kira went flying past them, right into her brother's arms, making him groan in relief.

"Vi havas ok horoj antaŭ ili alvokis denove." The guard said. "Se la juveloj ne estas en la lifto vi havas multe malpli. Bonan sorton."

"We have eight hours to get a head start." Reka told them. "Let's make use of it, come on."

They ran to the elevator, getting there just as it came open, and then piled in. "Here," Emily said once the door closed. She and Andrew had both carried extra clothing, in case it was needed, but Spencer and Kira were both in what had to be a prison uniform of grey pants and long-sleeved t-shirts. But neither wore anything on their feet, so they passed over the boots they had carried. "I hope they fit." Emily said as Spencer bent to get them on. "And here; look up." As Spencer did she slid his glasses over his nose.

"Thank you. You have no idea." He frowned with what must have been sudden eyestrain.

"I can imagine." She pulled his badge out next, passed it over once he was in his boots. "Want your phone too?"

"No. You can carry it for me." He stood there just looking at his badge a long moment. "You did get my revolver?"

The more she looked at him the more he seemed kind of shaky. "Can you handle it?"

He flexed his left hand, and then shook it. "Enough."

"Good. It's a good thing we carry the same caliber." He had two shots left in his revolver, but her magazine was full, as well as the one she carried in the chamber against all rules. Three from her magazine left him with five and her with fifteen, which would have to be enough, "Here."

The smile on his face was the first indication of everything that had happened. Spencer had never been that cold before. "Thank you." He said to her. "This helps."

"You really do let your Healers carry weapons." Andrew said with a smile.

"Don't get any ideas." Reka replied.

"Do you trust that guard?" Emily asked her.

"About as far as I can throw him," the other woman replied.

"Then let us go first." Emily looked over at Spencer, who had put an arm around Kira and pulled her, something she clearly did not object to. If he looked too old she looked like a wounded bird, somehow smaller and shrunken in her skin, with her hair chopped and up in all directions. Her brother dug in his bag and came up with a headscarf, but before she could put it on the elevator stopped. Emily dropped her rosary bag in the elevator. "Hopefully that will slow him down at least. Ready?" She asked Spencer.

"Yeah."

The doors opened onto an empty hallway. They took it with Academy precision, quartering each turn and doorway, covering every angle. Reka took the rear, calling out directions as they went, covering Andrew even as he protected his sister. But there was nothing, not another person in sight. Finally they got to a turn that was nearly packed full with moldy refuse. Spencer took one whiff, leaned over, and started dry heaving. "Reid?" Behind them she could hear someone doing the same, assumed it was Kira. He heaved for almost a minute. "Reid, you okay?"

"Yeah," he managed to get out. "I will be." With some deep breaths he got it under control. "Let's go."

They made it through the pile and onto the platform. There were three trains stacked up, and they could hear voices in the distance. "This one," Reka said, peering off in the distance. "They're just hooking the engine on.

They tucked back in under the hoppers. Emily was next to Andrew again, while Reka settled with Kira and Spencer. As soon as Spencer put his gun back in his holster he put his arms around Kira and practically pulled her into his lap, tucking her under his chin. She did not complain at all, rather she almost burrowed into his arms. "Well, that's unexpected." Andrew murmured.

"Problem?" Was he going to take issue with his sister falling for a guy from another planet or something?

"No. Actually a solution."

The train started moving before she could ask anything more.

 


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

**Emily**

"So you traded the rosary your mother gave you." Dave nodded. "From what I know of John Paul, he would have approved."

Spencer looked over and winced. "I didn't realize. Was it some kind of family heirloom…"

"Doesn't matter," Emily was quite certain of that. She reached over and rumpled his hair. "It was completely worth it. Besides, popes bless those things by the crate, I'll pick up another the next time I go to Italy."

"I wonder what the guard said when he realized that it wasn't made of diamonds." Morgan said, chuckling.

"He deserved it." Spencer replied. "Anyone who supported that system deserved it."

"So then you went back to the Abbey…" Penelope asked.

"No, we never even made it back to the wagon." Emily replied. "As we left the train yard a portal started forming in a flooded field not far away."

"It appears that what they call 'portals' are wormholes that open here only randomly over Lake Michigan." Spencer told them. "There they appear more frequently over any damp area and are more recognizable, although they are smaller. People are taught to avoid them from childhood much like we would teach children to avoid sinkholes."

"But you never know where or where one will form." Emily agreed. "So when we spotted one I decided we couldn't risk missing a chance to get home.

* * *

**Loading Platform 27**   
**City Gateway 9**   
**Little Sister**   
**Then**

"Yep," Andrew said as they watched the column of glittering fog slowly form. "That's a portal."

"All right, that's our ticket home." Emily sighed with relief. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful, that these weren't friends, that…that Andrew couldn't become something more, but right now she just wanted to get Spencer to the nearest ER and to call Garcia and to have the entire might and main of the FBI around her. She wanted to be home. "Here," she pulled a business card out from behind her ID and handed it to Andrew. "Keep this. If you ever come to our planet give this to the first Guardian you meet, we call them police officers, they can use it to find me. Come on Reid."

"Emily, you can't." Andrew's hand on her arm stopped her.

"We have to."

"Emily." Andrew said patiently. "He's not well, he's already showing symptoms. If you leave now he won't make it. Let us help him and when he's stronger we'll find you a way home."

"If one shows up! It could be another sixty years! We have to try!"

"You take him now, it's your responsibility." Reka pointed out. "You know that, Guardian."

"I know, and I won't let him down, I promise you. But I have to try to get us back. I have to try. Reid…" He was standing there, holding Kira as much as she was holding him his hands wrapped around the back of her neck, "Come on, we have to try to get back."

"I know," was all he managed to say.

"She'll be all right, they'll look after her. We have to try. Come on." She started tugging him toward the fog."

"I love you." She heard Kira say, before Spencer finally let go and let Emily drag him.

"Emily!" Andrew called after her.

She turned to take one last look at the group. "I'm sorry!" She called before turning back. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

**Dave Rossi's House**   
**Alexandria, VA**   
**Day # 17**

"And then we were back on the plane. Boom, just like that. And that's my story."

"You two had quite an adventure." Dave agreed. "I believe I can speak for all of us when I say that we're glad you made it back, and not just because we'd have to explain to Erin how two agents disappeared off a plane in flight."

"And am really glad you're going to be okay." Penelope reached over and rubbed Spencer's arm.  
"But you had to leave Kira behind, that couldn't have been easy."

"No." Spencer admitted. "But Mom is here. And Henry. And all of you." He didn't object when Garcia pulled him into a hug.

Just then the clock struck midnight. "I don't know about you all but I'm turning into a pumpkin." Morgan said. "What are we going to do with that file?" He nodded to the accumulation of notes and what little evidence they had.

"I'll keep it in my office." Dave said. "That way we have it if we need it. If it ever comes up you two say that you took a tumble when we hit turbulence and you thought you dreamed it all, that's why you didn't officially report anything." Emily and Spencer nodded their agreement. "In that case it's back to work on Monday."

They got up, helped clean up, packed up. In the process of it all Emily looked over at Spencer. He had come all over quiet earlier, was almost too quiet now. "You are going to be okay, right?"

He looked over and smiled, but his eyes were so sad. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Good night everyone." And then he was gone.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**   
**Day #20**

Monday they were all back at work, and it was back to Prentiss and Rossi, Garcia and Reid. Emily never did understand why everyone called Morgan and Hotch by their last names, even off the clock, or JJ by her first, even on. It was just one of those weird family things.

As she was getting coffee Garcia came up to her, "So, more good news. I spoke to a therapist I know over the week-end and Reid likes her background and he agreed to give her a try and now he's got an appointment with her on Friday. She swears she can have him eating meat again in eight weeks, and eating anything he wants in sixteen."

"Oh, that's great. A few months as a vegetarian never killed anyone." See, everything was going to be just fine.

"I did it for years myself." Garcia replied, "Until I was seduced back to the dark side. Bacon. It's evil." Garcia took her tea and headed back toward her lair.

The problem was that Emily confidence lasted all of ten minutes. That was how long it took for Reid to leave Hotch's office, head to his desk, pick up his mug, and come get a refill. "What did Hotch say about the desk duty?"

"Not a lot." Reid filled his cup and headed back.

And that, that right there, was the first and only sign that all was not well with the illustrious Dr. Reid. "Get back here!" Emily snapped at him. Reid obediently turned and came back to the break area. "Okay, what is wrong?" She asked him, lowering her voice.

"Nothing, why?"

"Because you never drink black coffee! You are the reason why we keep five pounds of sugar in the cupboard."

For a moment he looked away, and he looked so resigned and so hollow. "Maybe I'm just tired of sweet things."

Bull. Shit. Emily opened her mouth to say something, but then Hotch was coming out of his office and…

"Conference room everyone!"

…they had a case.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

**Gulfstream Aircraft Model G-IV**   
**Tail number N4SP**   
**Southeastern US airspace**   
**Day #23**

**Emily**

"So what's up with Spencer?" JJ asked as she shuffled the cards.

They were on their way back from the latest case, the details of which Emily was already busily trying to forget. Reid had stayed behind with Garcia, working from the conference room over a video connection. Even at a distance they had all noticed that he was different somehow. It wasn't that he was unprofessional, or that he was sullen or angry or anything you could really put your finger on. He was just…quiet. He didn't babble like he used to. He didn't smile. He was taking his coffee black. It was a bunch of little things that all added up to a concern, but not one she could share with JJ. "I don't know. Maybe he's still sore."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Apparently he went for a bike ride and took a fall."

"Really?" JJ looked skeptical. "He didn't look injured."

"From what I heard he landed…um…" Emily pointedly gestured down.

It only took JJ a moment to get the hint. "Oh!" She winced in sympathy. "Oh jeeze, that will do it. What was he doing on a bike anyway?"

"Hasn't Henry been asking about big boy bikes?"

JJ groaned. "No wonder he didn't say anything. Well Henry is too young, still so his Godfather will have some time to remember how to ride."

"Good." JJ bought the story, but that didn't ease Emily's mind about Reid at all. At least there was an expert on the case. "Gin."

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**   
**Day #23**

**Garcia**

Garcia cornered Reid in the conference room where he was boxing up the case. "Okay, so what's going on with you?"

"Nothing," he didn't even look at her.

Yeah, that was not going to fly. "No, Spencer, come on. Hey." At least she got him looking at her. "Now I know that there are things that are impossible to talk about, and I'm not asking you to go there, but something is clearly bothering you and that is completely understandable. But we want to help, or help you get help and none of us can do that if you won't say anything at all."

He managed a kind of a smile then. "Thank you. I know you all want to help, there just isn't anything anyone can do."

"Why not?" He'd turned back to the board so she poked his shoulder. "Hey, why not? Are you sure Nancy can't…"

"No." Nancy was the therapist he was supposed to be seeing for the whole fear of eating thing. "She doesn't have the certifications for this."

"Well, then we find someone who does."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because therapists don't work in that discipline here."

"You're saying that other place has something we don't?"

"I'm saying we have something they don't."

"What." Now he was really not looking at her. She poked him again. "What?"

He took a deep breath, "AIDS. We stopped certifying surrogates in the 1980's when the AIDS crisis began. Now most of them are retired, or close to retirement."

Surrogates. AIDS. OMG he was talking about sex. "What, are you saying you think you need one?" He didn't answer that. "So what do they do now?"

"Drugs," he replied to the file box, "which would only make it worse."

She sighed. "A lot of people take anti-depressants…"

He interrupted her. "No."

"No what? No you don't want to take drugs or no you're not talking about anti-depressants or…" At that moment it clicked. Kira said they called it hating your body and Spencer said they were conditioning based on fear, and drugs would only make it worse and… "Oh, sweetie…." He was talking about Viagra, he had to be.

He was impotent.

"It's all right. It's not a big deal." He put the last of the pictures from the board into the box and turned to the files on the table.

"Yes it is. It's a huge deal. It's like, one of the biggest deals." No, okay, that was completely not fair.

"No it's not. People have lived very happy lives without that. Productive lives. And anyway, Kira doesn't have that option, it wouldn't be fair. Besides…" He looked so consumed with that file. "…there wouldn't be any point without her anyway."

Ok, this was beyond not fair. This was tragic. "So you go back." Garcia said. "We'll go to Lake Michigan and head out on a boat and…paddle back and forth until you disappear."

Spencer kind-of half smiled. "Even if that was a workable solution I wouldn't go."

"Why not?"

"What would you tell Mom? Or Henry? Or Strauss?" He looked up as she opened her mouth but her mind pulled a blank. "This is my decision to make, Garcia. I am making a conscious decision to let that part of my life go in order to be here for the people who need me, for Mom and Henry and the team."

No, this was not… "You mean forever? You're just…" Okay, she had to say it. "...never going to have sex again. Not even on your own."

"Until someone comes up with a better option. "

"But that's not fair!"

He just smiled and shook his head. "You work at the BAU and you think life is fair." The box was packed, and he lifted it and headed for the file room.

Garcia watched him walk out of the room, a flat, dull, detached version of the Spencer she knew and loved. She could almost see him then, quietly growing older and flatter, too afraid to savor even life's smallest joys until he finally just withered away. This is what half-dead means, she thought, and there is nothing any of us can do.

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #43**

**Andrew**

The archery range was tucked into a corner of the Guardian's courtyard, off where a miss-shot arrow would only hit stone wall. Andrew settled himself on a bench where he could watch the figure standing at the firing line. As he watched she pulled an arrow from her quiver, nocked it, pulled back a full draw, took aim at a point that looked to be several feet below the target and fired. With a solid thunk the arrow sank into the center ring, next to two of its fellows.

"What?" Kira asked him.

"You haven't been meeting with Merina."

"I've had other things to do." She calmly nocked an arrow again.

"She said you haven't followed up on your medical treatment either."

"There's no need." With a thunk the arrow hit the center ring.

"I saw your medical report, there is a need."

"Okay. There's no reason."

Damn it. "I can get one of the guys to…"

"…do you a favor." She finished for him, looking at him finally before nocking another arrow, "Even though they all prefer each other's company."

Andrew sighed. Why did he have to be the only het male surrogate? "Someone could show up here tomorrow and be the right sort, you never know."

"I already met the right sort."

Oh. "He's gone, Kira."

Her arrow clattered off the stone behind the target as she let fly before rounding on him. "I know that!"

"You have to let go."

"No, I don't! I don't want to! I'm not ready to!"

"If you let it go too long then that…your injury will be permanent." Too long without treatment and she'd never feel pleasure again. His sister would be half-dead the rest of her life, unable to take any joy in life until eventually she simply faded out of it entirely, and there would be nothing he could do.

"Then it will be. Without him I'd prefer it that way anyway." She turned on her heel, her cloak swirling around her and strode over to hang up her bow.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Riding."

"You can't." That's what he came to warn her about. "Merina's worried that you're going to do something foolish. She asked Bosc to confine you to the Abbey. They won't let Jax out of the paddock."

Kira rounded on him, anger mixed with despair in her eyes. "Then it looks like I'm going nowhere." With that she strode away.


	44. Chapter 44

**Canales Quality Meats**   
**225 7th St SE**   
**Washington, DC**   
**Day #27**

**Rossi**

If the case hadn't been in DC they never would have known.

Monday morning three bodies were found in a butcher's shop in southeast DC. This would not have caught the attention of anyone above DC Metro except for the identity of the bodies and a very long length of code left on the wall at the scene. Those two facts combined meant that this case rightfully belonged to one of the alphabet agencies, CIA, DIA, FBI, NCIS, NSA, BAU, one of them. The problem was the no one knew exactly who had jurisdiction, and wouldn't until they could translate that code. Thankfully one thing they all agreed on was who had the best chance of breaking it quickly and had the clearance to read the message revealed, whatever it said. Which was how he and Reid ended up spending the morning in a meat locker. "Are we getting any closer?"

"Possibly," Reid mumbled. "I think I'm seeing a pattern."

Technically Reid was still on desk duty, but the request for his services had bounced up to the Director himself before bouncing back down to Hotch, and it was generally agreed upon that with half the Federal agents in DC outside the door no one was going to get close enough to give him any kind of an injury. But since he wasn't planning on leaving the office, and since it was a warm, summer's day in DC Reid was not dressed for the cold, and Rossi was not that far off. "Well hurry up, I'm freezing. And you probably are too; didn't your mother ever tell you to bring a coat?"

"Not in Vegas."

"Good point." All of a sudden the kid got that look, like all of sudden things were dancing in front of his eyes. "Got it?"

"Yes. Where's that clipboard?"

"Over there." Rossi turned to the guys at the door. "We might have some…" There was a strangled yelp behind him and the sound of the clipboard hitting the floor. Rossi spun around, almost automatically reaching for his gun. "What?" Reid was standing there, clutching his left hand, his face contorted in pain. When he looked he saw that the younger man's knuckles were red and badly swollen. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Reid choked out. "When I tried to pick up the clipboard my fingers wouldn't bend."

"Hurts?" Although it was obvious.

"Yeah."

A couple of the other guys from some agency or other had come in to get the message. Now they looked at Reid warily. "Some kind of pathogen?" one of them asked.

"If it is you're contaminated already." Rossi looked over at Reid. "Here, you read, I'll write. If they don't trust me by now we have bigger problems. Then we're taking you in to get that checked out."

Thankfully Reid didn't argue.

* * *

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #47**

**Kira**

Given that she still wasn't back on full duty Kira was spending the afternoon in the library. She should have been back on fully duty, there was no medical reason for her not to be back on full duty, but on her first day back she'd been in the sparring ring and Kell had grabbed her around the waist and she'd ended up breaking his nose and his cheekbone before she came back to herself. At that point Bosc told her that she was out until Merina cleared her, period. So she might as well read.

That was where she was, thoroughly enjoying a history, when Alfdis and Giles found her. "Kira," Giles asked. "Have you been missing anything?"

"Not that I know of," she replied. "Why?"

The two of them looked at each other. "We were out guarding Brynja and Joran while they gathered herbs and we found something in the meadow where you were…uh…"

"Captured?"

The two nodded, "We found this." Giles held out his hand. Cupped in his gloved palm was a coin. It was larger than any coin she had ever seen, mostly gold, but with some kind of blue enamel in the center, and the number five. "Is it yours?"

"No, but…" She walked over to where the memory boxes were kept, and pulled out the one for Guardian William. "It's the same kind of glyphs." She said, showing them the papers in there. "This must be Spencer's. I told him to leave his valuables behind. His Guardian must have missed it."

Alfdis and Giles looked at each other and smiled. "Would you like to keep it for him then?" Alfdis asked.

Kira looked at them and felt her eyes start to sting. "Yes, please." Giles placed the heavy, cool object in her palm and they then left her to it. She brought it to the window and looked it over in the sunlight, tracing the mysterious writing and admiring the color, the worn spots where it must have bumped against other coins in his pocket. It was something of his, something tangible, something real. Something to anchor this end of the thread that she could still feel between them. I'll never let go, she thought as she pressed it to her lips. I'll never let go.

* * *

**Washington Hospital Center**   
**Emergency Department**   
**Washington DC**   
**Day #27**

**Rossi**

"It's not a pathogen." The doctor said as she came in, the file open in her hand.

Once the code was broken and the case had been turned over to the appropriate agency Rossi had all but dragged Reid down here. He'd been poked at and prodded and finally x-rayed. He insisted his hand was feeling better but it was also still swollen and hard to bend. Thankfully, though, it wasn't a pathogen, anthrax had been hard enough. "What is it then?"

"Arthritis," she pulled an x-ray up onto the monitor in the room, and they all stepped forward to have a look. Even to Rossi's untrained eye he could see that every one of Reid's finger joints had been broken, as if someone had worked him over with a hammer, old-school style. They had healed clean, more or less, but the damage to the joints was done. "If I ask how it happened you'll probably tell me it's classified or something."

"Or something," Rossi agreed.

"Make an appointment with a hand specialist." The doctor told them. "Take OTC anti-inflammatories until then, no more than the max dose."

"I already am." Reid told her. "Something unrelated." But the look on his face told Rossi otherwise.

"Then try one of the topicals, Icy Hot, Ben-Gay. Gloves to keep your hands warm, not at the same time. "And stay out of meat lockers." The doctor wrote a note and handed it over to them. "Good luck."

Standing out in the summer sun Rossi watched as Reid fumbled into his glasses and then stood there, rubbing his knuckles, letting them absorb the soft heat. "How did it happen?" He asked gently.

"I was protecting her." Reid said softly, abstractly.

"That's never going to go away now." He'd have problems with that hand the rest of his life.

Reid shook his head. "I know. I'd do it again." He sighed. "I promised her I wouldn't let go."

"Did you?"

Reid looked at his hand, at the injury that would always remain there, reminding him. "No."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part 4


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 5
> 
> Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.  
> \- Lao Tzu

**Chapter 45**

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #50**

**Andrew**

Andrew later reflected that the entire incident, from end to start, could only have been cause by the Dark God's boredom. If he had realized that sooner he would not have been surprised when one of the gate guards found him in the preparation room. "Someone at the gate for you; they won't come in."

He certainly shouldn't have been surprised by who he saw there. Near the mirror image of himself, but older, more worn, and with no light or life left in his eyes. "Father," Andrew said, respectfully to the man on the war horse. But inwardly he groaned, there was no way this could be good. "Fetch Bosc," he murmured to the guard, who quickly went off. "Come inside." He said louder. "We've ease for your horse and your thirst."

"I'll enter no such sinful place." His father replied. "Do you know why I've come?"

"No, Sir."

"This!" He held a crumpled paper in his hand, now the older man threw it at his son. "This is why?"

Andrew smoothed out the paper and felt his stomach knot. On it were five pictures, so carefully copied that it must have been done in the City, him and Kira, Emily and Spencer, and Reka. And to what must have been their father's horror Kira and him were bareheaded, her hair chopped. "What is this?" He asked as he felt someone tap his shoulder and passed Bosc the paper.

"Demons!" His father replied. "They said the five of you are demons, told everyone to report your whereabouts to the priests. Not demons, says I, but rebellious children defying the will of God. Running about naked, your sister whoring herself…"

"If you truly believe that you never knew her." Andrew replied, taking his sudden flare of temper and holding it tight with the patience he was gifted with.

"I know she's no daughter of mine. And you're no son. Perhaps that is why they punished your mother." Andrew felt Bosc's hand go around his arm, and a good thing for even his patience had its limits. "Well I will tell the priests where to come claim you for due punishment. And when they are done do not bother to return to my home." With that his father wheeled his horse and rode off.

Andrew was this tempted to go saddle Astri and go after him but Bosc gave him a solid shake. "Calm yourself." The older man said. "He's of no account to you any longer, he removed his claim. And we have greater problems, come on." Bosc pulled him back into the gate, and told the guards there to double the archers. Then he led the way to Mother Abbot, who had heard of the commotion. Bosc passed her the paper. "Their father said the priests were looking for them, said he would tell them where to find them."

Merina was at Mother Abbot's side, which explained why Reka was there a moment later. "Shit." She said as she looked at the paper. "It's a Watcher bulletin. I knew we got out of there too easily."

"Why would they come after us now?" Andrew asked, confused.

"To find out who had the skills and knowledge to get in and out." Bosc replied. "Stop you in there and more might follow. Stop you out here and you stop everyone."

Mother Abbot sighed. "We knew this day would come." She looked from, Bosc to Merina as they both nodded in agreement to something unsaid. "Pass the word, have everyone leave their work and assemble in the main hall. Have our patients wait in the courtyard with their families." She stopped Andrew as they all turned away. "This is not your fault." She told him, "Yours or Kira's. Know that in your heart. Make certain she knows it in hers."

"Yes, Ma'am," Andrew told her, honestly. Then he hurried to pass word.

Twenty minutes later they were all assembled in the Great Hall. There was a great deal of chattering as people wondered what was going on, that they were all called here in the middle of the work day. But their confusion did not last once Mother Abbot was helped onto a bench so she could be seen and heard. "I regret to inform you all that the time has come. We are going to war." A gasp of astonishment ran through the room. "We are lucky to have received advanced warning of an impending attack so we will be able to prepare, but from now on every moment counts and I must ask you all to accept every order you are given for there is no longer any time for question. Healers, make notes of the course of treatment for your patients to follow and then send them home, they must leave the Abbey by daybreak, it is no longer safe for them here. Those of you with families who can return to your home villages must do the same, stablemen, pass out carts and work horses as needed to get everyone underway but keep the war horses in our stables. Missionary teams, draw supplies and coin as needed for an extended stay in your target villages, you will be rousing support for the war against the City and its leaders, Bosc will be presenting you with notes on what to say. Many of you will remain here, to protect this building and those who cannot leave, including those in the yellow wing. However I have a list of those who have a special duty to perform, please listen for your name."

Andrew listened carefully. He was not at all surprised to hear his name called and then Kira's. As he listened she finally made it through the crowd. "What's going on?" She murmured.

"The City leaders are looking for us; for the five of us."

He saw the blood leave her face. "How do they know we're here?"

"Father turned us in." She looked away, muttering curses under her breath.

"Those of you whose names I called and any families with children, who have nowhere to go, please stay. The rest of you go about your duties." The hall cleared out, leaving roughly fifty of them behind, including Merina and Reka. With some help Mother Abbot climbed down off the bench and indicated that they should all sit. "All of you have a special assignment." She told them. "We're sending you over the mountains."

Halberd the tinker was one of those asked to stay. "Over the mountains?" he asked shocked. "Why?"

"According to records a team of Missionaries set out to found a sister abbey on the western side of the mountains many years ago. Word was sent back that they had found a location and were building, but after that we heard nothing. Now, it's a slim chance but should we not be able to defend this place the lot of you will have to keep our ways and beliefs alive. You'll be sent out with enough supplies and coin to help that abbey or to start a new one if that one has been lost." She managed a smile. "You may well be our last hope. But I know I can trust you all to work together and survive. It is dangerous, if you do not want to go speak up now." This is it, Andrew thought, this is when I decide if I'm the kind of soldier who fights no matter what or who takes orders for the good of the group. But he looked at Kira and she looked at him and he realized that it was not just the group, she wouldn't go without him and keeping her here risked capture again. She mattered more than pride, and so he let the moment pass.

As did everyone else in the group. "Thank you all." Mother Abbot said. "Now from what we know of the west it is more populated and so everyone there uses a family name as well as a given one. If your family does not have a name then now is the time to decide upon one. If you consider yourself committed then it would be best if you shared a family name, and mothers must share theirs with their children. We shall make a list of them for your leaders to carry along the way to begin the history of the new Abbey. In addition Bosc has gone to fetch the ranking book; all Guardians must use their assigned ranks while on this journey as they do in the west. He has decided that Reka will Captain the Guard at the new Abbey, and I have asked Merina to look to the Healing wing and with her Hildi and Halberd will organize the practical work. Each of you must pack only that which is most precious to you for you will each be asked to carry supplies and coin for the group as well as for your own need, and then as many books from the library as you can carry. As you all know they are our treasures so please guard them well. We have lists of what to pack for yourselves and each other. Are there any questions?"

There weren't any so she stepped aside, Mother Abbot for this group no longer. Instead Reka stepped up, looking tall and stern as ever. If anyone was to guide us, Andrew thought, I'm dammed glad it's her and Merina. "Gather your things as quick as you can, and turn into your beds early tonight." She told them all. "We leave at dawn."

 


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

**Tá Súil Abbey**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #50**

**Andrew**

The hardest part was leaving the horses behind.

Kira, now Lt. Kira Capaill in the new colony's books, stood in the stables and gently stroked Jax's velvet soft muzzle. For the past month and more her only relief from the memories and emotions that tangled her insides had been her daily rides, flying over the nearby hills with her stallion under her and her bow on her back, knowing that nothing could bring her any harm. But there would be no farms along the way for them to buy food and it wouldn't be safe to let the horses hunt and so there was no other choice.

"I'll take him for my own." Bosc promised her. "Treat him like the king he believes himself to be. And they must have some kind of horses in the west, you'll have something to look after there, I'm sure."

"I know." Jax reached down and began to gently gnaw on her shoulder. She spotted the concern in Bosc's eyes; no one else dared approach a war horse unmuzzled. But Jax had never tasted her blood. "If you trust him he'll be trustworthy." She pointed out. "And never let him feel your fear."

"I'll give it my best." Bosc promised.

Kira nodded her thanks. "Good by old friend." She said with one last kiss on that soft velvet. And then she had to let go.

She returned to the suite of rooms she was sharing with Andrew, now Dr. Andrew Capaill. "I'm sorry." He said the moment she walked through the door. He had already given Astri to one of the other Healers, but he hadn't needed her like Kira had needed Jax. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Do you want an honest answer to that?" She landed heavily on her bed and leaned in to see what else had been added to her pack in her absence.

"If you're not up to going…"

"Of course I'm up to going. Andrew, in the past month and a half I've lost my virginity, my nakken, my true love, my father, my home and my horse. That I'm out of bed speaks to a stronger than average survival instinct which will not let me stay here for re-capture."

He blinked at her. "Good point." They went back to settling their packs. "I, um, hope you like the books I put in there for you. I knew you'd want books as your personal items anyway so I gave you five instead of three."

Kira smiled, they were her favorites. "Yes, thank you."

"I also tucked the yarn that didn't fit into your bag into mine."

"Oh good," they had been encouraged to take only the most precious personal possessions. For Kira it was her bow and quiver, made by her Grandfather, which would be going anyway. So she'd packed her small embroidery etui and her knitting kit so she could keep them both in socks and mittens, along with three changes of clothes, four long skaut to cover herself, a bar of her favorite soap, and her share of the grain and coin rations for the colony. But yarn was bulky if light, she hadn't been able to take her entire stash. "What are you taking for personal, or is that too nosy?"

"No." Andrew reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle, "Chromles."

She rolled her eyes. Properly diluted, that was enough to heal a dozen women injured as she had been. "Didn't we have that discussion?"

"I'm confident that you'll come around. And I've got a dozen other pouches in here, all the healers split up all the herbs and seeds we could carry. Also this," he pulled out a familiar leather box.

"William's things?"

"They meant so much to Emily I hate to leave them here. I left the weapon though, it was too heavy and given what those can do I didn't want to take the risk of it. Speaking of Emily…" He reached into his journal and pulled out that small bit of stiff paper decorated with glyphs they couldn't read. "Do you have yours?"

She smiled and opened her collar. Halberd had mounted the coin for her to wear on a leather thong around her neck. "I wouldn't forget." Actually it never came off. She preferred to sleep with it next to her heart.

"Good. All right, I think we have time for one last bath before…."

They turned as they heard a strange sound, an odd, echoing rumbling coming up the valley toward their hollow. Together they ran out of the building only to find everyone else out and looking around, trying to find the source of the noise. Bosc and Reka hurried past them, and started climbing up trees and ledges to get to the roof of the Abbey hall, the highest point in the compound. Kira and Andrew took one look at each other and followed. From this perch they could see the whole of the valley, and the round dome of the sky above. "There!" Andrew said, catching sight first. He pointed to two flyers slipping along the edge of the ridgeline.

Flyers and not flyers, these were sleek, pointed shapes, not the boxy things that had chased her and Spencer across the hills. "What are they doing?" Bosc muttered as they watched the show, the echo of their engines rolling across the valley.

All of a sudden a terrifying thought twisted in Kira's gut. "Spencer said they had these things called 'cameras'. They were like windows; you could look through them only the two sides could be very far apart."

"That's called a view-screen." Reka, now Captain Reka Nabyen said. "I'm familiar. I always thought those needed to be hooked up to a wire."

"Spencer didn't say anything about a wire."

"So they're watching us." Bosc nodded, "Cautious on their part. All right, pass the word, everyone leaving goes out at least an hour before dawn, to get as far as they can in the darkness. And plan for an early supper."

Kira looked at her brother. "I didn't want a long soak anyway."

* * *

The next morning, before the light had even touched the horizon, the small band quietly walked out the gate. At the top of the hill Kira turned and looked back at the single light in a window of the place that had once meant healing and comfort, where she had once had so many dreams. Then she took a deep breath and followed her people into the great unknown.


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

**Western Mountains**   
**Little Sister**   
**Day #53**

**Andrew**

For two solid days they climbed their way up into the mountains. It wasn't until they were underway that Andrew had a chance to really consider the make-up of the group that was traveling.

If you left out himself and Kira, Reka and Merina you had an additional twenty Guardians, probably an excess given the size of the group. But fifteen of those were young women, all in their late teens and twenties, and the remaining five men were also young and known for their pretty faces. There was a handful of staff along, but again, outside of Hildi and Halberd they had clearly been chosen for looks over experience. There were eight Healers, and four of those were still in training like himself, and young and pretty and the two men were both attractive and known to be a couple. The two older women, older putting them in their late 30's or early 40's, were one of their experts in remedies and an experienced midwife. The midwife was needed for some of the remaining women, for five families had come with them, two who each brought a set of children, two who were pregnant, and one family that had one set of children and another on the way. At first sending a group this young and this fragile on a dangerous trek through the mountains made no sense, but then he caught sight of his sister and the jewel-like coin she wore around her neck. She was also young and pretty, and Spencer had been as well. "I just realized what Mother Abbot was doing." He said as he huffed up the hill.

"Oh?" He'd been walking beside Merina. For reasons unknown she'd chosen him to be her assistant in this journey, as Reka had chosen Kira. "And what is that?"

"Sending the people most in danger of being sent to the Cages away." The ones most at risk of torture and rape if captured.

Merina nodded. "Very good." She said. "It makes for a difficult group but the lesser of two evils had to be chosen."

"Understandable."

In addition to the other children there was the problem of Kitta. When she and her brother were small her father had died in an 'accident' on their farm, causing their mother to take her two children and return to her parent's home. A year or so later she'd been captured for the cages. Upon returning home she'd survived the initial crisis only to be found swinging by the neck in the barn a few days later. Her parents were devout and had decided to keep her brother because they had never had a son and the value of one was great but they threw Kitta out to rid themselves of the family sin. No, this didn't make sense to anyone, least of all the Missionary team who found her weak and miserable, curled up in an animal den two days later. They brought her back to the Abbey while Kira was in the Cages, where she was being raised more or less collectively. Now she was with the group that was leaving and she bounced over to Kira's side. "I'm Kitta. Are you Kira?"

"Yes."

"They said you're an orphan now." Kitta said, cheerfully, her soft brown braids bouncing off her shoulders as she skipped. "Is that true?"

"That's right." After what her father had done Kira figured she and Andrew were pretty well orphaned.

"So am I. I always wanted a sister. We can be orphans together!" And with that Kitta took hold of Kira's cloak and refused to leave her side.

That had been on the first day. They'd climbed to a ridge and then over into a series of easy valleys punctuated by creeks and falls, a good place for clean water. Two nights they had camped beside those falls, eating cold foods from their packs and huddling together, grateful for the mild weather as Reka did not allow them a fire. "No point in setting a beacon for the flyers." She pointed out.

On the third day out they climbed one more ridge and stopped. Stretching before them was an immense valley, carved out of the mountains eons ago. They couldn't see the ends north or south, compounded by the fog hanging in low patches along the ground. "Hiking around it isn't an option." Reka pointed out.

"And it's steep going down." Halberd said. "Once we're down in it there's no coming back."

"Is there water?" Hildi asked.

Kira pointed out across the way. "Waterbirds." They were landing in what looked like an area with reeds. "There must be lakes."

"Not good water then." Hildi replied.

"We can boil water." Drifa the Midwife pointed out. "And flat would be easier walking for a time."

"Yes, but we'll have to keep the children close." Merina told them. "They'll be easy to lose in the grass."

"That's not a problem." Andrew replied. "We can carry them pick-a-back if we need."

"We cross then?" Reka asked. There was a general agreement so she nodded. "Right. Everyone see that notch on the far side?" They nodded. "That's probably a waterfall. We meet there, on the south bank. Off we go."

They slowly, carefully made their way down the side of the valley, helping those who needed first, those who could dart down the sides like mountain goats going last. Once there they all looked for the notch and having taken their bearings started in for the far side, the waist high grass making for not too difficult walking.

But they had not gone far when a distinctive rumbling began to echo off the sides of the valley. "Flyers!" Someone called out. "How did they find us?"

"Answer how later." Reka replied. "We need cover."

"This grass isn't high enough." Halberd pointed out. "And it's too steep to head back up."

"Think we can make the other side?" Merina asked.

"With the children?" Reka replied. "And Dalla as far along as she is? No, we need another option here."

"Reka." Kira called to her. They all turned and looked her way. Just beyond them, not far at all, the fog was beginning to boil, to form to solid and start to shimmer in a way. As they watched it started to stretch to the sky as the portal formed.

"That's suicide!" One of the fathers called out.

"That's risk." Andrew told them. "Staying here might get your family taken to the Cages."

"Maybe they won't come up this valley." One of the women said.

Hildi scoffed. "You really think the Dark God will be that kind?"

Sure enough a moment later two dart-like shapes appeared in the sky above them. As graceful as birds and faster than anything any of them had ever seen they passed low overhead and down the length of the valley. "Reka." Andrew called to her as soon as he could be heard over the lingering howl of their engines. "Did you see what was on those things?"

The older woman nodded. "Weapons." She said. "They aren't here to take captives." She turned to look at the group, tall and terrible as she made the only decision left. "Everyone to the portal now! Run!"

The whole group started running, dragging those who were slow, picking up and carrying the children. Andrew was one of the last, swooping a terrified Kitta up into his arms, making sure that everyone was accounted for, that no one was left behind. As he turned to check one last time, just on the edge, he spotted the flyers coming toward them. As he watched their weapons lowered and the valley below them lit on fire.

He turned and ran.

* * *

**Little Sable Point Lighthouse**   
**Silver Lake State Park**   
**On the shore of Lake Michigan**   
**Golden, MI**   
**Day #33**

**Ranger Barry**

A summer night on the lake meant one thing in Ranger Barry's life, drunk kids wanting to get laid. He parked his car behind them, so the dammed dashboard cam could record the whole thing, proof against any pain in the ass lawsuits, and went over to the car that was rocking gently. "Come on, you can't stay here." He said as he rapped on the window. "Lot's closed."

"Aww officer."

"Either go get a spot in the campground or go home."

"Hey." The girl in the car said. "What is that?" She was pointing toward the lake.

"Not a good reason to…" Ranger Barry turned to look. The fog had been hanging over the lake off and on all day, but as the sun went down it had grown thicker and moved right up on shore. Now it almost appeared to be boiling in the moonlight, like someone was running it through a blender. All of a sudden light started flashing from inside it. "What the hell?"

As they watched in shock people started running out of the fog. A great mass of screaming people ran up on to the beach like they were coming out of the water itself. It was simply not possible for them to be coming from any other place, that beach had been empty five minutes ago. But now they were there and they were  _running_.

A heartbeat later two jets, two fighter jets, screamed out of the fog and right overhead. They were already too low and a moment later they heard and felt the explosions as they both crashed.

"Holy Jesus!" Ranger Barry said as the two kids hauled out of the lot. Screw the radio, he got on the phone and called 911. "This is Ranger Barry over at Little Sable Point, there's been an accident! There's planes down! Send everybody!"


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

**Little Sable Point Lighthouse**   
**Silver Lake State Park**   
**On the shore of Lake Michigan**   
**Golden, MI**   
**Day #33**

**Kira**

Kira opened her eyes and blinked.

The sky was wrong.

It had to be sky because they were outside, she could feel a soft breeze on her cheek and she was laying on some kind of soft soil. But that sky was  _wrong_. It was  _empty_. There was no comforting Big Sister looking over them, only a pale, glowing round thing.

And the light was entirely funny.

The last thing she remembered was running, running away from the flyers, her heart in her throat. They were going to take her back, they were going to catch her and Andrew and then something had lifted her up and  _dropped_  her and there had been this sharp pain in her head…

Wait. Andrew. "Andrew?" She blinked again and started trying to sit up.

"Ah, you're awake." Mina said. She was one of the Healers, was sitting there next to Kitta. "Easy."

Good idea given that the world was dipping and spinning. But Andrew…she shook it off and started getting to her feet. "Where's Andrew? How long was I asleep?" Or passed out, she thought. There was still a lingering pain, like the ghost of a toothache in her head. "What's going on?"

"Over with Reka and Merina." Mina nodded up the beach. "You were out for about thirty minutes , about twenty less than Miss Kitta here and I have no idea. You missed another flyer."

The light was funny because there was smoke in the air, and because there were all these things, like trains but not, pointing bright lights at them and flashing red and blue lights on their tops. "Another flyer?"

"Not like the last kind. This was small and noisy, with a spinning thing on the top. It set down over by where the other flyers crashed. Halberd thinks they set the forest on fire."

"That would explain the smoke." By now Kira was up on her hind legs, and able to shoulder her pack, strap on her quiver and pick up her bow. "Thank you for looking after us."

"Anytime." Mina gave her a sweet smile and turned toward the other children.

Kira staggered through the soft soil to her brother's side, Kitta scampering after her. "Sorry." She said when she got there.

"No need." Andrew replied. "I was out for a bit too. So was Reka.  _Captain_  Nabyen." He corrected when Reka shot him a look. "She woke up first though."

"Only the four of us?"

"Four?"

"Kitta was out too. What is all this?"

"Re… _Captain_  Nabeyen said they're emergency cars and that they're full of Guardians and people who fight off fires."

Oh. Guardians. Well that had to be an improvement. "Did you show them that card? Are they going to help us?"

"Don't know yet. Every time we try to get close to them they point weapons at us."

"That's not very helpful." She leaned in a little. "What's with all the Captain stuff?" She whispered.

"Merina thinks they'll respect us more if we use ranks and titles." Andrew whispered back. "She got that from reading the archives."

"So everyone is supposed to call me Lieutenant now?"

"Yeah. Well, around the other Guardians."

"What do I call you?"

"Doctor."

Kira couldn't help it. "You're still studying."

"I know just…work with me here." Andrew looked over at her, and must have noticed the smile slowly growing on her face. "What?"

They were completely lost. They had little food and less water. They had children and pregnant women dependent on them. And they were surrounded by strange Guardians who would rather point weapons than talk. But they were  _here_ , they were on Spencer's planet, home to all of the stories he'd told her. She might be the only one on this bit of land that was looking forward to exploring this place. "Nothing."

Merina had been a bit away conferring with the elders in the group. Now she came over and spoke briefly to Reka. Whatever it was Reka wasn't thrilled with it, but after a few moments she nodded her agreement. "Guardians!" She called to the group. "Pass the word, all Guardians to me!"

Kira was already standing there. In a few moments all the Guardians were gathered around, a cluster of red and black. Once they were quiet Reka took a deep breath. "We're going to give up our weapons."

There was a murmuring through the group. "Why?" Someone asked.

"To show them that our intentions are peaceful." Merina told them. "It's not like they're going to do us any good against their weapons or metal wagons anyway."

"I saw one of their weapons drop a bull uxa with one blow." Andrew pointed out. "I don't want to know what it would do to a person."

"And I don't intend to give any of them an excuse to show us." Reka said in a voice the brooked no arguments. "Keep the smaller things in case you have to fight to protect your charges but the larger knives and anything that could be used at a distance needs to go. Now watch me." Reka turned and looked at the Guardians who were watching from behind the lights. She put both her hands up, palms out, spread wide and took a few steps toward the line. When they lifted their weapons she stopped and very slowly unhooked her short claíomh from her belt and laid it on the ground before backing away a few steps. Then she turned back to the group. "All right, all of you go. One at a time."

She'd been so happy just a few minutes before, but now Kira felt a knot forming in her throat. She loved her bow; her Grandfather had carved it for her Grandmother back when they were first at play. Not only was it perfectly weighted and balanced for her draw but it was a work of art, with vines climbing the limbs and little pinnsvinet peeking out around the arrow rest, and her Grandmother had worked the leather quiver in three colors to match. She didn't want to give it up; she didn't want to lose something else on top of every loss. But then Andrew was there beside her. "Go." He said quietly. "It's not worth your life." Biting back a sob Kira stepped forward and quickly placed her bow and quiver on the pile before turning back, and ducking her head so no one could see her tears over something that was, in the end, so small. "Thank you." Andrew said, right in her ear as everyone returned to their charges. "We'll fix all of this somehow, I promise."

"I wish I could believe that." She told him quietly.

"As long as we're alive anything is possible." He said, lightly. And then a bit more serious, "Can I please give you a hug?"

For a moment she wanted to say no, you're not him. But Andrew was her brother, veteran of a thousand puppy fights and tumbles in the barnyard and nightmares and every other thing and the one would never take away from the other and she so badly needed someone to hold on to right now. Without saying anything she turned and butted up into her brother's arms, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"See, there's a first step." He said as he returned her hug. "And this is a second." As Kitta turned to them both and squirmed her way in. "I think we have a little sister now."

"Yeah." She was alive, she had her family about her. It's something, Kira thought. I can at least hold on to all that.

 


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

**Little Sable Point Lighthouse**   
**Silver Lake State Park**   
**On the shore of Lake Michigan**   
**Golden, MI**   
**Day #33**

**Kira**

Unfortunately giving over their weapons didn't seem to make one bit of difference in the situation. Beyond the lights the other Guardians still milled about for an exceedingly long time, long enough for everyone to start to get hungry and chilled and for the children to start to whine. Then, after much movement beyond the lights, something happened. Someone wearing clothing that covered him completely, from head to boots to gloves, and a frightening sort of mask with round, glass holes over his eyes and a round thing hanging off his mouth and nose, started slowly walking toward them, carrying a box and holding something on a stick. He waved the stick at them and watched the box and then walked back behind the lights. "Well that was odd." Merina murmured.

Not long after that a hole was opened up in the wall of lights. The same person, or another dressed in the same clothes and mask stepped forward and motioned for them to follow him. "Should we?" Andrew asked.

"Better than staying on this beach." Reka turned to the group and shouted. "People! Gather up! Time to go! Children in the middle, Guardians on the outside!"

Sticking together, rather like a flock of ducks Kira thought, they moved up the soft soil of the bank and down the other side, threading their way between barricades and lights and Guardians, all in that all-covering outfit, all with masks and guns. "I wish they would just talk to us." She grumbled.

"I know." Andrew said. "But at least we're going somewhere other than the edge of this lake."

The soil was soft and hard to talk through. About halfway up the bank Kitta stopped. "I'm tired." She grumbled. "My legs hurt."

"Come here." Andrew said kindly. He went down on one knee and helped her climb up to sit on his massive shoulders.

At the other end of the path were four large wagons, except none of them had horses. "How do they go?" Someone asked.

"With engines," Reka said. As they watched one of the men in the funny suits pointed in to the open back of one of the wagons. "He can just wait a minute, if we're going to be splitting up here. Everyone to me." She pulled a journal out of her pack and quickly separated them into four groups, keeping Guardians with the Healers, as was proper, and the children and families, which was just safe, and making sure that no group was all women or undefended, that sort of thing. While she sorted Kira noticed Merina looking around at the Guardians behind the barricades, no, past them, at people toward the back. Interesting. But now was not the time to ask.

Eventually, once everyone else was on, she and Andrew swung up into the last truck, along with Reka and Merina, as well as the family who had children and was expecting more soon, among others. As soon as they were all in place Andrew and Giles helpfully lifted the rear flap back up with a loud bang and fiddled a bit until they locked it in place. At that signal Kira heard the other wagons being settled, ensuring that no one wagon left before the others. A few moments later the 'engine' growled to life and with a jerk and a foul smell they headed out.

They rode for a good hour, down dark roads broken only by the sight of emergency cars at the crossroads, their blue and red lights flashing. Then they got onto another road, this one wider and smoother and started moving very, very fast, easily as fast as a train. Fast enough that it got cold in the back with only the canvas sides to protect them. They pulled the children into the middle and bundled them in cloaks and someone started a story which helped the time go by. There was really nothing else to do.

After some time they slowed down. Now there were lights outside and everyone peeped around the canvas to see a town going by. Kitta squirmed out from under Andrew's cloak, where she'd been snuggled in next to his side, to see. "Ho, hold on." Kira laughed as she grabbed Kitta around the waist before she could tumble out and pulled her into her lap. Children, she was finding, didn't hurt to hold.

"Houses!" Kitta said, pointing as they went by. "Look. That one has a light on!"

"Yes, there are people in them. Just like back home. Oh! Look at the sign on that one! See it!" She pointed out the shape in a rainbow of light. "A tankard with ale, I bet that's a tavern."

Kitta wrinkled her nose. "Mama always said taverns are nasty places."

"They are. But it's good to know that they have them here. And I bet some will be glad to know that they have ale."

They turned and turned and turned again as they made their way through the village. "That's a cozy looking house." Kitta said. "They have funny-looking wagons. But no horses, do they have horses here?"

Kira sighed. "I hope so. I miss mine."

Kitta leaned in for more of a hug. "I had to leave my piscín behind with her mother in the barn. Halberd said I could have a new one when we find a place to settle though, if we can find one."

"Well I hope they have those here too."

They crossed a large, open space full of more of those emergency cars with their lights going as the wagon drove slower and slower still. Then if finally went so slow they were barely walking, and they went over a something that was brightly lit and then on to something else that settled like…"Whoa, what is that?" Kitta asked.

It took Kira a moment to place the sensation. "Water. We're on a boat. They drove this whole wagon onto a great big boat, like a rowboat."

"Why?"

"I don't know. But look, see. That's the dock."

As they watched more of those people in funny suits and masks busied around, making the boat ready. "I don't like them." Kitta pronounced. "They're kind of scary."

"It's just the masks they're wearing." Kira told her. "I've met people from here before; they don't look that different from us."

"Why are they wearing masks?"

"I don't know."

Kitta considered this a moment. Then, when one of the people in masks looked their way, she waved.

The person in the mask considered this himself, then nudged the person next to him, and pointed. After they both considered a moment he waved back.

Kitta gave them both a big, gap-toothed grin and then turned back to Kira. "Maybe they aren't so bad."

Kira was grinning herself, as was Andrew. Look, communication at last! "Maybe they aren't after all."

For a while they watched the men in masks bustle about, subject to periodic stops for waves with the children. At one point one of them caught her eye, pointed to Kitta and held up one finger, as if to ask 'one?' Kira shook her head, pointed behind her and held up two fingers. Then she pointed toward another wagon, more or less, and held up two, and then to a third and held up two more, for a total of seven. Two of the men conferred, one of them held up seven fingers and she nodded. Yes, they had seven children with them; anyone could see that if they weren't in the wagons.

Some small time later some of the men drew quite close, apparently to make the wagon wheels fast to the boat. But before they did one of them peered in at them, causing much murmuring. Kitta pulled back into Kira's arms. "Kira." She wavered.

"It's all right. I won't let them hurt you." But they weren't there to hurt. The man in the mask looked at Kitta and then at the rest and then quickly dropped something in to their laps before pulling back. The somethings were warm and furry and brightly colored and upon inspection had silly embroidered faces and were stuffed with wool. "Cuddlers!" Kira explained when she realized what they were. "They call them 'teddy bears' here. I think they're meant to be gifts."

"Oh!" Kitta was all grins now, picking up one of the toys and giving it a hug. "Oh, it's all soft too! It's wonderful! I have to bring these back to…"

"Hey! Hold up, say thank you first." Kira caught Kitta by the back of her sweater and reeled her back.

When the man finished making the wheels fast Kitta looked at him with a smile. Then, as was proper she put her hand over her heart and gave a little bow. "Thank you!" She said before squirming back into the wagon to pass over the new toys. Kira couldn't help laughing, she was adorable. She turned to the man peering in and thought she saw him smiling behind his mask. She put her own hand up. "Thank you." She said.

The man turned and looked at her, his eyes wide with shock. He scrambled back so fast that he very nearly fell out of the wagon. They peered through as he ran off to the others, pointing and causing quite a stir.

Reka and Merina had been carefully watching this entire performance from further in the wagon. "What's all that about?" Reka asked.

Kira shook her head. "I have no idea."

But before anyone could sort it they were pushed off from the dock and floated away.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1105**   
**Day #34**

**Kira**

They had floated for a very long time, long enough for some people to even doze off. But they all woke up when the boat stopped, then was pushed up against a dock on the far side. After much business which included unlocking the wheels of the wagon the 'engines' started up again and with a series of bumps they were once again underway. And once again Kitta squirmed her way out from under her cloak to see. "Don't you ever sleep?" Kira asked, teasingly.

"I can't sleep!" Kitta protested. "There's a whole new world to look at!"

They drove down dark roads for a while, and then passed an open space with a well-lit, very grand building on the far side. "Ooo, what's that?" Kitta asked.

"I have no idea." Kira replied.

More driving, more emergency cars with their lights going, another long turn onto another wide, fast road, and then another long turn off of it. More buildings, bigger ones, and more turns and nothing looked familiar anymore. Kitta had slumped against her, and might have even started falling asleep, but... "Kira, I want to go home."

"You are home." Kira told her, tucking her in closer. "Wherever the Missionaries are that's your home; you were all excited a little bit ago, why do you want to go home now?"

"Because I hafta go to the bathroom!"

Uh oh. "Hopefully we'll be stopping soon."

They did stop soon. They stopped in front of a large brick building, three stories tall, that was well lit and had lots and lots of people in those funny suits and masks around. As soon as they stopped Reka pushed her way to the back of the wagon, climbed over the gate, dropped to the ground and gave a loud, sharp whistle, "Everyone down and to me!"

"What if we're not supposed to get out now?" Someone asked.

Giles turned toward the voice as he and Andrew worked to lower the back of the wagon. "You tell her that."

By the time they hit the pavement Kitta was squirming. Kira turned to the nearest man in a suit and mask and pointed down to the little girl just as she crossed her legs. He took one look and pointed toward the building. Some things were universal.

More men in suits were motioning them to follow. As they had before they formed into a flock of ducks, red-cloaked Guardians on the outside. Kira tried for that but she had to stick close to Andrew, her charge, and Kitta would not leave her. They were guided into the building and then to a set of stairs up. At every turn Kira stopped at someone in a mask and pointed to the squirming Kitta, but they were just pointed along the path.

Finally they were being led into a large, brightly lit room, lighting that gave Kira the shivers. But she couldn't stop to consider, Kitta was jumping up and down with need. Another person in a mask, and another point down, but this one led them to another short hall that could be entered from inside the room. Down that hall Kira found two large bathrooms, one on either side, with toilets and sinks that looked familiar enough. "Found the bathrooms!" She called to everyone as Kitta positively ran for one of the toilets. They were each in a separate little metal box like a horse stall, so more than one person could go at a time and still have privacy. Kira used one herself as a line began to form. Once that was done she had time to step back and consider. This room, perhaps these rooms, was very much like the Cages, all clean and concrete and tile, with lots of metal and a drain in the floor. But they were all here together, so it wasn't and she wasn't alone. But at the same time….she touched the coin around her neck and considered, what would Spencer suggest I look for first? What worried him the most? It wasn't the tile, or the metal, or anything like that it was…. Kira looked up at the corners of the room. Sure enough there were two cameras up there, watching them. "No!" She said, a flare of anger lighting her.

"What is it?" Merina asked, spotting the anger on her face.

Kira pointed at the cameras. "They're watching us!" She spit out. "At the toilet, and…" She looked at the end of the room. "…while we bathe. It's….it's…"

"Shhh. Breathe, dear. Just breathe." Merina said, mildly. "They're observing us. They have been this entire time, like we observe the patients in the yellow wing. I saw some on the way here, taking notes. We're new to them and they're curious."

"Then why don't they just come talk to us instead of staring at us like some sick, twisted…" Every memory of her time in prison kept trying to crowd back. For a moment she was inexplicably terrified that they had all seen what had happened to her. They knew somehow.

Merina stepped close without touching and projected an attitude of calm. "I'm sure they will, given time. But for now I suggest that we communicate that we are willing to work with them but there are limits." She considered the camera for a moment. "Alfdis! Kitta!" The other Guardian and the young girl came over. "Does anyone have a skaut they are willing to part with? I need two." She asked the women in the room. Two were quickly presented to her. She folded them into the traditional triangle and then knotted them for a very small head. "Okay Kitta, Kira and Alfdis are going to lift you up and then I want you to slide this skaut over that thing up there so that the point hangs well over the glass, can you do that?" The little girl nodded. Alfdis and Kira each took one of her legs and on three lifted so she could reach. A moment later and the first camera was seeing nothing but cloth.

"I'll go tell the men to do the same." Merina said and left them to the work. A few moments later the other camera was covered as well.

That done Kira, Kitta and Alfdis poked around the far end of the room. "Do you think these are for bathing?" Alfdis asked when she stepped into one of the larger metal stalls. It was sectioned off with a sort of a waxed cloth, with a metal bench on one side, and a nozzle coming out of the wall on the other, with a knob underneath.

"I don't know." Kira replied. She stepped out of the way of the water, if it was going to come out of that nozzle, and turned the knob. Sure enough, water came out, falling like a sharp rainfall.

Kitta stuck her hand in. "Ugh, it's cold!"

The knob was marked from blue to red. Kira turned it to the red side. In a moment the water started to steam. "There we go."

Alfdis sighed. "Oh good, I could use one. But later, let's go check out the rest of the place."

The three of them headed back to the main room, which was large and brightly lit as the cages had been, with two bed bunks along each side and tables at the end by the door. At least this place has windows, Kira thought. Alfdis wandered off to find her charge while Kira went to find Andrew. He was toward the back of the room, with one of the little boys up on his shoulders, covering another camera. "They're everywhere." She muttered darkly.

"Yes, but we're not going to be performing for them." Andrew told her. "That's the last one." He put the boy back on his feet. "Go find your Momma. The bad news is that we're locked in."


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1105**   
**Day #34**

**Kira**

Kira started to panic. She'd come all this way only to be trapped in another prison. "Hey…" Andrew put his hands on her shoulders. "We're all here together; no one is being separated, at all. We won't allow anyone to be hurt. Just keep breathing, all right?" Kira nodded, pinning her hopes on that for the moment. "Now we left some of the cameras at the front of the room where the tables are uncovered so we can try to communicate with them. Anyone who doesn't mind being watched as they sleep can take a bed up there. I got beds for us down at this end; I thought you'd want the privacy."

"Yes, thank you." She took a deep breath. "I just…I just…"

"It was this or dying, you know that. We're alive and together, it can't be all bad." Andrew pulled her into a quick hug. "Come on, we should go join Mer… Dr. Kaerleikar and Captain Nabyen. Drifa wants to use this end to do a few check-ups."

Drifa, the midwife, "Is everyone all right?"

"So far, but she wants to check while we have time."

They headed back to the front of the room, where Merina, now Dr. Kaerleikar, was attempting to communicate with the people on the other side of the cameras via pantomime. She gestured to the group, made a motion like she was putting food into her mouth, then smiled and licked her lips and rubbed her abdomen. Both brother and sister turned to Reka, who was standing there looking amused with the whole performance. "She's trying to get food out of them." She said.

"Will we even be able to eat what they send us?" Halberd asked.

Andrew shrugged. "Emily didn't have a problem eating our food."

"And Spencer didn't have a problem with the City food." Kira added, "When it was food."

"Just the same," Merina said without looking away from the camera. "We feed the children and pregnant women from the packs for a day, if not more, until we see how the food they bring affects the adults." She repeated the performance.

A few moments later there was a click from the door and then three solid knocks. Two of the Guardians went to look through the window. "They closed the far door." One reported. "They left carts with stuff on them."

"Bring them in." Merina said. They did, revealing pans of piping hot food and everything you would need to eat them. A murmur of pleasure went around the room.

A murmur from everyone except one person. The moment the savory smell hit Kira's nose her stomach cramped with hunger she hadn't felt all day, and then it promptly twisted in a knot as her heart started pounding. It not food the primitive part of her mind screamed, it's not food! It's filth! It's waste! It's bugs and that's all we have!

But then big arms were going around her and holding her tight. "Just hang on." Andrew murmured in her ear. "Might as well get this over with now. This isn't the best way to do it but it will work. Kitta, leave us be for right now, please." The little girl looked at them with big eyes but moved over to Hildi's side. Andrew kept talking. "Just breathe, in and out, and let yourself run out of fear." Run out of fear? Run out of fear? How could you run out of fear? "Breathe." He was right, after a few minutes Kira's body simply could not sustain the fear response any longer and it began to calm down. Even so, her brother didn't let go. "Now, look. See how everyone is eating? They're not getting sick; they're not turning away because it's bad. They're enjoying the meal. Would they if it was foul?" She slowly shook her head. "See, it's not so bad. You haven't eaten all day, you should be starving. Take a deep breath in…and out…now think about it, are you hungry?" Kira breathed in and out and realized that yes, her system was completely empty. She'd spent so much time learning to ignore that feeling because there were no other options that now she had to consciously remind herself to eat. And Andrew knew it. "Want to go give it a try?" He asked.

In reply she crept toward the food carts. Most people had already gone through once but there was still more than enough. There was what smelled like roast pork, which was what set her off, and what might be potatoes with bits of bright vegetables in them and what looked like vegetables in a sauce and fresh bread still steaming warm and a bin of small, flat squares. "Those are for sweet." Halberd pointed out. "The boxes on the bottom shelf have milk in them, although the cream is out. And the butter isn't quite right, I'd avoid that but the rest is good."

As nervous as she was Kira let Andrew fill a plate for her, and then she went and sat with him. It only took a few bites for her hunger to roar forth and then she was eating with gusto. "That really isn't the best way to treat that." Andrew told her. "You might get afraid every time for a while. It's better to do it gradually."

"Not much of a choice." She pointed out. "This is very mild pork; I wonder what they feed their pigs?"

Giles, across the table, laughed at her. "You still sound like a farmer's kid."

She just wrinkled her nose at him. Giles' father owned a tailor shop in a village. "Townie," she teased back.

The only problem with feeding the children out of the packs was that it all smelled so good. Moments later Kitta was up against Kira's arm. "Can I have some?"

"You shouldn't. It might make you sick. There's bread and honey in my pack, have some of that."

"But I don't want bread and honey! I want to try that!"

Kira looked up at Merina, who had been looking over the group. Merina just sighed and shook her head. "I don't think we're going to be able to stop any of them." She said.

"It's your stomach." Andrew pointed out, but he went and fixed Kitta a plate.

Once they ate and everyone who had seconds wanted them, including Kira and Andrew, they packed up the plates and remains and put the carts back out into the hall. Then Merina very deliberately stepped in front of the camera and made the gesture for 'thank you'. "I wonder how we can get them to turn down the lights." She asked.

"Like this." Reka replied. She went to a series of switches on the wall and began turning them off and on to determine what switch went where. They turned out the ones at the back of the hall but left them on at the tables and in the bathrooms, which made it just dark enough to rest. "Guardians," Reka called out. "I want volunteers for guard duty, just in case."

Andrew took Kira's hand and put it down. "Not you." He said. "You've had enough stress today. You need some rest."

Sigh.

Once guards were settled upon there was nothing to do but head to bed. People drifted in and out of the bathing rooms, children were put into shifts, and beds were made up and settled in. Even though the bunks were steel, the one Andrew chose creaked under his weight and was several inches too short. Kira had planned to sleep above him but, "I don't think it will hold both of us."

"You can sleep with me!" Kitta said, grabbing Kira's hand.

"How about if you sleep above me and one of the little boys can sleep above Andrew." A child would be lighter to balance Andrews's greater weight.

"Okay!" Kitta grinned and took her two cuddlers, the one from home and her new one, and clambered up to the top bunk. But then she stuck her head back down, her pigtails swinging. "Are you as excited about tomorrow as I am?"

Tomorrow I get to start exploring Spencer's world, Kira thought. Maybe I can find his family, see where they buried him, say good-bye. "I think I am." She replied. "Now go to bed."

"Good night!" The head disappeared.

"Good night."

 


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

**United States Naval Base**  
 **Recruit Training Center**  
 **On the shores of Lake Michigan**  
 **Great Lakes, IL**  
 **Building #1105**  
 **Day #34**

**Kira**

Sometime later Kira woke to bright sunlight and the smell of food. She noted that Andrew and Kitta were out of bed so she got up, went to wash her face and do what wanted doing, then headed to the tables. The one good thing about sleeping in your clothes, she thought. "Good morning." She said to the people at the table.

"Good morning." Andrew said as he got up and led her over to the food carts. "There is porridge, there is fruit, there is milk, there are sweet rolls and there is, if you are up to it, bacon. Not as good as home, but bacon."

Bacon. She's always loved bacon on the farm. "I'll give it a try. What is that?" She asked, pointed to a tray of yellow crumbles that had barely been touched.

"Reka…Captan Nabyen…said it was eggs, but it doesn't taste anywhere close to eggs to anyone else. Same with the orange stuff in the pitchers and whatever is in those cups. She called it city food but the rest of us are passing."

Right. She skipped the so-called eggs and the rest of the stuff that wasn't right and helped herself heartily to the rest. "Has anyone come to talk to us yet?"

"No, we're hoping for after breakfast."

But breakfast came and went with no reply from the people outside of the room. Kira took a chance and went for a bath, quickly covering her too short hair with a plain skaut so as not to call attention, and then dragged Kitta through one as well. After that there was little to do. Some people had cards, other games, and there were ample books since they carried their library with them. The children were sat down to lessons as best they could and some people pulled out mending. Eventually another meal came, this a simpler one, hot soup and fresh rolls and a big bowl of greens with dressings to put over it and more fruit and little sweets. "At least they aren't starving us." Halberd pointed out.

"Yes, but why are they keeping us in here?" Hildi asked.

"Well." Merina mused. "Let's consider. Why would we keep a group of people locked up and watch them closely?"

"We keep the patients on the yellow wing locked up." One of the Healers pointed out.

"Yes, but they come to us one at a time." Drifa replied. "Why would we lock up a group?"

"We wouldn't." Hildi pointed out.

"Yes we would." Halberd said. "We did in my village when I was young. The Spotted Plague went through, anyone who came down with it had to go to the town hall until it passed or they were dead. Maybe they think we have the Plague."

"But none of us are sick." Someone pointed out.

"Don't have to be." A Healer replied. "Some animals carry sickness that can pass to people. The animal is never sick but a person who touches them get sick. That's why you have to wear gloves when you handle the bodies of snakes. Maybe they're afraid we have a sickness that they can catch; we are from a different planet."

"But Spencer and Emily didn't get sick." Andrew said. "And we didn't get sick from them."

"But did anyone from our planet actually touch them?"

Everyone was quiet as they realized that as mistake was just made. "I think we can assume yes." Merina said, sparing Kira from having to point out that Spencer had been touched by people from their world, and intimately at that. If anyone was going to catch or give sickness he would have. "But the people holding us here don't know that."

"Well if they don't risk it and come in and talk they won't know that." Halberd said.

"Maybe we should show them. When we're finished with the meal." When they had Merina told them to clear everything on to all but one cart and push those out into the hall. When those had gone she stepped to the large tank of very cold water that had been left with breakfast and took one of the small glasses from the stack. "I need a volunteer and a blood testing kit." She called out. Giles stepped up as a volunteer and one of the kits was produced from a pack. Merina stepped in front of the camera, gestured to the group, made a clear sign for 'no' and then mimed being sick. Then she pointed to the camera and pointed to her eyes, as if to say 'you look'. She held up the clear cup and then stepped to the table in full view of the camera. She carefully cleaned one of the letting knives and then a spot on Giles' arm, before tapping it with the blade. The tiniest cut opened up and some of Giles' blood dripped into the cup, forming a neat puddle. While one of the Healers took care of the small wound for him Merina took the cup and held it up to the camera miming 'you look' again. Then she carefully set it in the middle of the empty cart and pushed it out into the hall.

A few moments later they heard the clunking sound of someone taking the cart away, but there was no other reply.

* * *

Eventually dinner came, what was almost roast mairteola but considerably less chewy, two kinds of vegetables, potatoes with mairteola gravy, fresh rolls, stewed fruit in pastry for a sweet that was very well liked. Quite honestly everyone was ending up stuffed. "I hope they aren't fattening us up for the slaughter." Halberd joked.

"Well you brought your fiddle." Giles pointed out. "Let's burn some of it off."

With that the tables were pushed out of the way. Halberd had his fiddle, and some of the others brought instruments and within moments the dancing had started. Kira didn't, some things she was not ready for, and Andrew stayed with her, but their little shadow went off to join the dancing line. She sat and watched them, happily perched on a window ledge, where she could see the sky turn to sunset and he lights of villages in the distance and the people moving below.

When the dancers got tired they started calling for songs. One after the other people with decent voices sang, some silly tavern songs and someone sang one about the fae and some of legends from long ago. It was all so warm and homey, Kira thought, even in this strange, cold place. What I said to Kitta was right, where the Missionaries are is home. But still I wish…I wish…When there was a lull in the music she heard someone sing…

 _How can the small flowers grow,_  
If the wild winds blow,  
And the cold snow is all around?

_Where will the frail birds fly,_  
 _If their homes on high,_  
 _Have been torn down to the ground?_

_How can a heart survive,_  
 _Can it stay alive,_  
 _If its love's denied for long?_

_Lift the wings,_  
 _That carry me away from here and,_  
 _Fill the sail,_  
 _That breaks the line to home._  
 _But when I'm miles and miles apart from you,_  
 _I'm beside you, when I think of you,_  
 _a Stóirín,_  
 _And I'm with you as I dream of you,_  
 _a Stóirín,_  
 _And a song will bring me near to you,_  
 _a Stóirín, a Grá._

I wish I could sing, Kira thought. I wish I could sing for him just once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: "Lift the Wings"  
> Music and lyrics by Bill Whelan.  
> Sung by Aine Ui Cheallaigh  
> Used without permission and not for profit. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> http://youtu.be/6QL2r6yG3XM


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1105**   
**Day #34**

**Kira**

Very early on the morning of their second full day of captivity Kira was awaked by someone patting her face. "Kira," Kitta said very quietly. "Are you awake?"

"Am now," Kira muttered. Kitta was sweet, absolutely adorable in fact. She'd been making her reconsider refusing treatment entirely, after all children were wonderful things. But at the moment she was reconsidering her reconsider. "Why?"

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"So go."

"I don't want to go alone, it's scary."

Kira groaned, when did she get nominated for big sister status? "All right." She'd changed clothes yesterday but she was once again sleeping in them. Most people were confident enough to change to sleep clothing tonight but she wasn't one of them, she wanted as much of her covered as possible while in captivity right down to her skaut, thank you. Kitta, however, was in her shift and had her cuddlers in her arms, Kira refused to let her issues become the little girl's. "Are they going too?" Kira asked. Kitta nodded. "All right, this way." She padded off in her stocking feet, guiding the sleepy little girl before her.

Getting out of bed that morning, she later realized, was the best thing she ever could have done.

When she got there two people in suits and helmets were uncovering the cameras. Even as Kitta gasped Kira felt a surge of unwarranted anger, and without thinking she gave the one on the small ladder a well-trained kick to his backside, sending him sprawling. "You perverts! What are you doing?"

They turned and quickly backed away. These suits were yellow, not the dark green of the others, and had clear windows over their faces, not masks, so Kira could easily see the shock on their faces. "You…you speak our language!" One of them, a woman, gasped out.

"Of course I do!" Kira replied.

But Kitta was tugging on her hand. "Kira…" She quavered nervously."

"It's all right, they won't hurt us. I'm just telling them off for uncovering the cameras."

"Okay, see, that's not English." The woman in the suit said.

Kira turned to her. "What's English?"

"That. You…you're going back and forth between two languages."

Huh? "I'm what?"

"Have we been recording this?" The woman turned to her companion who nodded. "Play it back."

The man picked up a thing that looked like a tray or a book and touched something on it.

" _You perverts! What are you doing?"_

" _You…you speak our language!"_

" _Of course I do!"_

" _Kira…"_

" _Det er greit, vil de ikke_   _a ghortú oss. Jeg ag insintdem av fyiri nochtadh na ceamaraí."_

" _Okay, see, that's not English."_

" _What's English?"_

" _That. You…you're going back and forth between two languages."_

Kira gaped at what she was hearing as too many thoughts tried to crowd into her head at once. First of all that was her voice, how did they catch that and play it back? Second of all, that was a book that did things, lots of things, with what Reka called a view-screen, so it must be what Spencer called a 'computer'. All of a sudden she was itching to take a closer look. But most important... "I wasn't…doing that…deliberately. I don't know how…" Now she had to wonder, was she speaking Spencer's language or was he speaking hers?

"So not all of you know English?" The woman asked.

"I don't…" Kira looked down at Kitta. "Do you?" Kitta nodded. She looked back up. "Well, that's two of us, I don't know about the rest."

"Kira!" Kitta tugged on her fingers.

Right, the errand in question. "Well, go! We'll be over by the door." Kitta shoved the two cuddlers into her hands and ran into the stall, latching it behind her.

"Your daughter is adorable." The woman in the yellow suit asked as they stepped away to give the girl some privacy. "Is that big fellow her father?"

"What?" Whoa wait, that was a question that… "No, he's my brother." Did she just say…

"So you do form families?" The man asked.

Some questions…"Yes." Kira replied. "Just like you."

The man frowned at her. "How do you…"

"Let's start at the beginning." The woman stopped him and turned back to Kira. "Do you have a name?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Yes. Oh, I'm Dr. Amanda Jenkins, this is Dr. Scott Ringle. We're with the DOD First Contact task force."

"Healers." Right then, they must have been right about the whole Plague thing. "I'm Kira...Lt. Kira Capaill, and that's Kitta." She indicated the one who was now washing her hands.

"Lieutenant. You're military?"

"I'm part of the…" New words just seemed to be filtering in to her head somehow. "…security detail for the…hospital."

"Hospital?" Dr. Ringle asked.

"Yeah, where we're from."

"Are you the ranking officer?" Dr. Jenkins wanted to know.

"No, that would be Captain Nabyen. Um, she's asleep. I guess I could wake her if we need to."

Dr. Ringle chuckled. "Most officers don't like to get up in the middle of the night."

"True." She'd wake Reka and tell her anyway, of course.

"Why did you send out a cup of blood?" Dr. Jenkins asked.

"We figured you were keeping us here and not talking to us because you thought we carried the Spotted Plague or something. We don't, none of us are sick, so we thought if you could look for yourselves you'd realize that and be willing to come and talk to us."

"So you'd be willing to give us blood samples?" Dr. Ringle asked eagerly.

"I don't think a junior officer can answer that." Dr. Jenkins told him. She turned back to Kira. "Would your people be willing to discuss it though?"

"I think so. I'll tell them. It would probably be best to discuss it after breakfast." People were usually calmer after breakfast, at least in Kira's experience.

"All right, we'll tell our people as well." Dr. Jenkins nodded. "Um, you seemed upset about the cameras."

Kira's eyes narrowed. "Do you like having people watching you bathe?"

"Good point. We'll leave them alone."

"Thank you." Kitta was tugging on her fingers again. "I think someone wants to go back to bed."

"Understandable. Hopefully we'll see you tomorrow."

"I hope so too." Kira watched them go out the door at the far end of the hall and then took Kitta back to bed. "Well, they seem like nice people, about what I expected."

"Will they let us out of here soon?"

"I hope so."

"Where will we go after that?"

"I don't know. But wherever we go it will be home. Now you go to bed, I have to go tell Reka what happened."

Kitta tucked in, but before Kira could walk away she gave her a big hug. "I'm glad you went with me to the bathroom."

"I never thought I'd say it but so am I."

"Will you be my big sister?"

Kira considered this. In a way having someone to look after made her feel better, not so gloomy thinking about what happened all the time. It had been easier when she was worried about Spencer, about how she ought to be acting as his Guardian and protecting him, not that she'd been able to at all. Andrew was technically her charge but her brother needed looking after like a tree needed looking after, or a mountain. With him it was more ceremonial than anything, were there to be an actual fight he was likely to step in front of her first. Kitta, however, had no one at all and needed someone so badly. "Yes, I will be your big sister. But that means that you'll have to learn to ride horses when we find them again." When the time came to choose names Kira and Andrew agreed on one that meant 'of the horse' since they were the best riders in the Abbey, and the sound of it fit.

"Yes!" Kitta grinned and flopped back into bed.

"Shhh. Go to sleep now. Good night."

"Good night!"

 


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1105**   
**Day #35**

**First Contact Group**   
**Temporary Operations Center**

"Report." The Colonel said as he walked in the room.

"Still no signs of tentacles, sir," Dr. Ringle said, admittedly rather snippily.

The Colonel sighed at him. The doctors of the group would have just rushed in there with open arms and the next thing you know they would have been hip-deep in biowarfair. "So what have they been doing?"

"After breakfast? It looks like they're preparing for a meeting. I think one of them is actually trying to shine his shoes." He looked over at the Colonel. "Did you read the transcript from last night, Sir?"

"I did Doctor, and while, like you, I find it hopeful I do not find it any guarantee."

"She was being open and honest and…"

"And I don't know how it works in the academic sector but around here we don't normally let junior officer go to the bathroom by themselves, let alone make major decisions. She freely admitted that she doesn't have any power here."

Dr. Jenkins stepped in. "With all due respect, Sir, you're missing the point. That Lieutenant was speaking  _English_. I don't know how and I don't know why but we were communicating, which means we have a translator. Now unless you stop us we're going to go talk to them."

* * *

**Kira**

The next morning, after a breakfast of porridge and sausage without any of that not-egg stuff they sat and waited for the people in suits to come in. In order to make it all less confusing all around everyone filtered back to the beds, leaving the table area for the meeting, and Merina and Andrew, Reka and Kira to represent everyone. Or rather Merina and Reka to meet them, Andrew and Kira to hang back and act as their assistants, whatever that was supposed to mean. As a result they had dressed and brushed and polished everything as best they could, to show that to them at least this was a Very Important sort of thing. Even with her skaut doubled and layered Kira had never felt the loss of her hair so acutely. "I feel naked." She whispered to her brother.

He looked over at her quickly. "You can't tell." He whispered back.

"Still." A moment later Kira felt her little shadow pressing up behind her. Out of concern that this might happen she had deliberately cleaned Kitta up as well, but they really didn't need a child involved here. "Go sit with Hilde." She felt Kitta shake her head. "Go!" Little hands gripped her skirt all the tighter. Kira sighed, this was impossible.

A few minutes after everyone settled the door opened and six people came into the room. Two of them were men in green suits with masks again, and with weapons although they didn't point them at anyone. Kitta immediately buried her face in the back of Kira's legs. Three of the others were in yellow suits with windows over their faces. One of them turned to the group and put up his hand. "Welcome to Earth." He said. "We are glad you are here."

Merina just blinked at this performance for a moment. She stood, smiled, nodded and turned to the rest of the group. "Did anyone understand that?" In reply Reka, Kira, and Andrew put up their hands, and then Kitta slowly peeped out and did the same. "The four who blacked out on the way here. Interesting."

"What is she saying?" Oh good, Dr. Jenkins was one of the people in yellow.

"She's saying you have four translators." Andrew told her. "Well, three and a half." He looked down at Kitta who hid her face again.

Thankfully Kitta broke the ice a bit as both sides gently chuckled at her. "You know, we always wondered what to say in this situation." The first man said. "We always figured we'd meet some militarily superior race that was completely different."

"I don't think we were even superior to begin with." Andrew pointed out. "And you have all our weapons now."

"You might start with introductions." Reka said. "And then ask why we're here."

"Right."

Andrew made introductions all around, introducing Merina as the head of their expedition and Reka as her head of security, and himself and Kira as their assistants, respectfully. The first man turned out to be a Major Knox, and then there was Dr. Jenkins and another Healer. By then they were all seated around the table, and the rest of the group was trying hard not to look like they were paying attention. Once the introductions were made Dr. Jenkins spoke up. "Last night Lt. Capaill indicated that you might be willing to give us blood samples?" She asked as Andrew translated

Merina nodded. "We reasoned that you were keeping us in here because you were concerned that we might be carrying a disease that would harm your people. We do not believe we are and we're willing to give samples in order to speed up the process. Any of us will help, with the exceptions of the children and pregnant women."

The tree in yellow blinked at that. "You have pregnant women with you?" The healer asked.

"Yes." Merina said. "Perhaps while you take samples we can tell our story."

* * *

**First Contact Group**   
**Temporary Operations Center**

"They're what?" The Colonel asked.

"Refugees," Maj. Knox replied. "They're not an invasion force at all."

"Then what the hell were those two drones they brought with them?"

"The enemy." Dr. Jenkins replied.

The Colonel shook his head. "Start over from the beginning."

"This group came here through a wormhole. A wormhole is a hypothetical natural phenomenon that creates a bridge in space and time. It appears that on our world periodically one opens over Lake Michigan. On their world smaller ones open more frequently and over any body of water, even flooded farmland."

"How big is the one here?"

"From the evidence they brought with them, big enough to swallow a DC-10."

"That's a problem." The Colonel turned to his staff. "Contact the FAA, get all commercial traffic routed away from the area…wait, what area are we talking about here?"

"According to legend disappearances have been noted in an area of the lake known as the Michigan Triangle. Connect Ludding, Michigan, to Benton Harbor, Michigan to Manitowoc, Wisconsin"

"Right, keep commercial traffic out of the area, period. Get the Coast Guard out to maintain surveillance on the area. And someone warn the Canadians, that's right on the border." The colonel turned back. "Now, why did these people go through this wormhole?"

Dr. Jenkins consulted her notes. "According to their records their country, if not their planet, has been in a state of civil war for centuries. For the past hundred years the war has been quiet, the government were keeping people subdued by means of disappearances into torture facilities, South American dictator style. But recently the people have begun to rebel again."

"So, what, they're here looking for allies?"

"No. This group is part of a larger religious organization. They operated a charity hospital in a rural area where they treated victims of the torture centers. It looked like their facility was going to come under attack and so this group was sent to try to find another facility on the other side of a nearby mountain range. They sent away anyone who would be at risk of atrocities if captured, including the children and pregnant women. Their column came under attack from unmanned drones and with no other options for cover they ran into a wormhole."

"They're the staff of a charity hospital, including children and pregnant women, escaping a civil war on their home planet?" The Colonel chuckled. "This isn't an invasion, it's a humanitarian crisis."

"Yes, Sir. And a lucky break on our part," Maj. Knox pointed out. "As part of the deal they agreed to let us copy all of the records they have about military tactics and technology, and not contest our claim on the drones. If their home planet does decide to send any sort of military force through the wormhole we'll have an advantage."

"Deal?"

Dr. Jenkins nodded. "They want amnesty, some land to build a new facility and help adapting to our planet."

"Good. I want to keep this as tightly controlled as possible so let's keep it that way. If they're willing to quietly go somewhere out-of-the-way then make it happen." He turned back to Dr. Jenkins and Maj. Knox. "You said there was evidence that people from here went there?'

"Yes." Maj. Knox said, "First off a US Marshall, William Donnely. They have his badge, some paperwork and a letter he wrote to anyone who would follow him. According to their records he died in a plane crash and is buried on their planet."

"What do we have on Donnely? Does this planet have a name?"

"They call it Litlla Deirfiúr, we're still trying to identify its location."

One of the techs spoke up as he sent the file from his tablet to the screen in the room. "William Donnely was a US Marshall, he was listed as missing and presumed dead in what is assumed to be a plane crash in Lake Michigan in 1950. But they never found any wreckage."

"That's why." Dr. Jenkins murmured. "The wreckage is on Litlla Deirfiúr."

Maj. Knox checked his notes. "Second we have evidence of an FBI agent, Emily Prentiss. Dr. Capaill has her business card."

"What do we know about her?"

The tech blinked at his tablet, and then shot the file he found up to the big screen. "Emily Prentiss, daughter of Elizabeth Prentiss, former Ambassador. She's former CIA, assigned to Interpol as part of the Joint Terrorism Taskforce, currently with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Currently?" The colonel asked.

"Yes, sir. She's active duty."

"Well get her in here."


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1105**   
**Day #35**

**Kira**

When the meeting was over Kira approached their group leader. "Merina," she said. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course," they stepped over to the corner, a sign that they wanted privacy, which everyone would give them; everyone except for Andrew, of course, but she held few secrets from him.

"Last night when I met Dr. Jenkins she called Kitta my 'daughter'. I didn't have a chance to correct her, and now I don't know…." She didn't know if she should have, or how she should have or…well, yes, confusing.

Merina considered a moment. "Actually this could be a useful mistake, if you two are willing to go along with it and we can get Kitta to agree."

"How so?" Andrew asked.

"Reka has told me much about life in the Below over the years. One thing that has been clear in all of her stories is that children without parents are more vulnerable to danger and exploitation than those who have an immediate family to look after them. Kitta would be safer with a mother and an uncle, even if only for a short time, if you two are willing to look after her in addition to you other duties."

Andrew smiled. "I'm willing, and I'd be willing to keep her around for good as a little sister. Besides, it might give this one ideas about getting healthy for the future."

Kira opened her mouth to say something right back at him, but then she closed it. Kitta was adorable, incredibly so, and the thought of having more around, maybe even… "I'll do it."

"Good. Kitta," Merina called the little girl, who came running into her arms. "Can you help us play a little game?" Kitta nodded happily. "Can you pretend that Kira here is your Mummy and Andrew is your Uncle?"

"Why?"

"Because it would be better for you if those people in the yellow suits think that they are your Mummy and Uncle. It's not forever, just for a little while. Can you do that for me?"

Kitta thought a moment. "But I have a Momma and Poppa, they're in Fólkvangr."

"I know, sweetheart, and they will always be your Momma and Poppa and I know they are watching over you right now. But I think they will understand if we played let's pretend about it for a while if it meant you stay a little bit safer."

"Just pretend?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Okay." With that Kitta lunged at Kira, throwing her arms around her neck, "Momma!"

As they watched Merina opened the colony log books and fixed it so one Kitta, no family name, suddenly had a family.

* * *

**Gulfstream Aircraft Model G-IV**   
**Tail number N4SP**   
**Northwestern US airspace**   
**Day #35**

**Emily**

This had been the case from hell. Missing kids, an Unsub who liked to play in Seattle's Underground and all of his clues were on computer. It had been non-stop for all of them; they even had Garcia out on this one. No one had taken the time to stick their heads up for more than brief calls to tuck kids into bed. "What are you guys going to do now?" Emily asked as the wheels left the ground at last.

"Paperwork," that was Hotch.

"I'll help." Rossi said.

"Same here," Morgan added. "Get it done."

"I have some letters to write." Reid told them.

"I'm going to sleep." JJ said. "That way I have some energy when I get home."

"I'm doing a movie." Garcia said. "Want to join me? I have headphone splitters."

Zoning to a movie sounded really good. "Deal," Emily told her.

Just then their video link fired up. "Oh my god, finally!" Kevin said.

"Kevin!" Garcia was instantly peeved. "Why are you contacting the plane? No one contacts the plane. It's supposed to be the uber-safe zone, that's why I have this link encrypted."

"Yeah, I noticed that, I had to break all that to get to here and…"

"Kevin." Hotch said very patiently. "Why are you calling us?"

"Because there's a problem; did you guys hear about the aliens?"

Emily's heartbeat suddenly tripled.

"Aliens?" JJ asked, very skeptically.

"We've been out of touch for a few days." Rossi said. "Tell us."

"They landed on Lake Michigan a few nights ago. Well, here." Kevin typed something and all of a sudden a video came up. It looked like it had been taken by someone either a young cop of a reporter being kept some distance away, but at first it was of a plane crash. Planes that were not terrestrial. Then it shifted to a large group of people in very familiar cloaks.

"Is that…?" Rossi asked.

As Emily watched a familiar figure stepped forward, pulled the short sword from her belt and placed it on the ground. Reka. "Yeah." Crap.

"Kevin." Rossi said, suddenly very much in charge. "Hold that thought. Keep this line open. Garcia, make sure no one is listening in. Morgan, turn your phone off and then go talk to the pilots. No communications from anyone unless it's required for safety and if anyone tells them to land anywhere but Quantico their radios are dead. The rest of you, turn off your phones, for the time being we're still out of contact."

Emily finally gave voice to the memory that was suddenly twisting in her gut. "I gave him my business card."

JJ looked at her. "You gave who your business card?"

"Yes." Rossi turned to Kevin. "What's waiting for us?"

"More like who and that would be everyone. The Director is down here, as well as the NSA and the Air Force and I think the Army and I'm not sure who all else and they're all in Strauss' office and they are all looking for Agent Prentiss."

"Okay, if they ask we're en route but there's a communication problem with the plane and you're trying to fix it. Stall them but keep in touch with Garcia. For now we're out."

When the link was broken Hotch looked over at them. "Dave, what's going on?"

Rossi took a big breath and looked at Emily and Reid. "I'm afraid the gig is up." He said. "Start talking."

Two hours later the entire story, minus whatever Reid was keeping in his journal, was out in the open. He still couldn't talk about what happened in their prison, and they could respect that, but they now all knew that he'd been caught up in a sweep of some kind and spent twenty days in there. JJ put an arm around his shoulder and hugged him. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly.

"I didn't want to tell anyone." He admitted. "And I didn't want you to think I was too messed up to be around Henry. I'm not, I swear."

"And if you thought you were you would tell me." She agreed. "I am not keeping my son away from his favorite profiler, not for anything." She stopped a moment. "Well, at least not for anything that isn't contagious. I make no promises about Anthrax."

Spencer smiled a little and nodded, "All right."

"Okay, they're looking for Prentiss." Rossi said. "Maybe we should keep Reid out of it for now. It's not like he had anything useful to contribute unless they want to know how they run their prisons."

"I agree." Hotch said. "Prentiss, you and I will go with the DoD, or whoever is running things. JJ, I know you're not a media liaison any longer but you have the clearances…"

"…and they need the help." JJ agreed.

"Rossi, you, Morgan and Reid stick together, and I mean physically together. Don't let him out of your sight."

Reid had been slowly rubbing his left hand as he listened. Now he frowned. "No, I should go…"

"Don't worry Romeo." Rossi said. "Lord and Lady Capulet are looking after Juliette, you know that. Let Benvolio here act as go-between until the Prince of Verona moves on, then you two can have your reunion."

"What's our cover story?" JJ asked.

"There was turbulence over Lake Michigan, I hit my head, I thought I dreamed the whole thing." Emily replied.

"When she disappeared we thought she rolled under the table." Rossi added. "The pilots did file an incident report for rough turbulence so that story has some weight."

"Good." Hotch said. "Okay, you all know what to do, let's repair our communication problem and get to work."


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1107**   
**Day #35**

**Emily**

The interviews went about as expected, they tried a few fancy tricks to get her to change her story but Emily spotted them easily. After all, Jason Gideon taught them how to interview. On the one hand she was more than willing to lie to protect Spencer, her official story was that she'd spent her time with the Missionaries observing their culture and learning about their world, nothing more than that.

On the other hand she would not lie if it was a security issue, so when asked what she knew about the civil war breaking out in their society she had to tell them. "While I was there they did raid one of the prison facilities. A member of their staff had been caught up in a sweep, they staged a rescue."

"Why would peaceful, religious types suddenly go on the offensive?" Major Knox asked. "Especially if they knew their staff member would be returned within a defined amount of time."

Emily shook her head. "I have no idea."

"Do you think the reprisals against the hospital could have been triggered by this raid or was the government aware of your presence?"

"I don't believe the government was ever aware of my presence. But it is entirely possible that the reprisals were triggered by the raid."

"Right," Major Knox was going over his notes. "It's a lucky thing that we had a trained CIA agent on the ground recently. I know you said you didn't get a look at any military installations, did you get any sense that they were gearing up for war at all?"

"Not at all, my entire trip there was peaceful. This is entirely unexpected."

"Can you think of any reason why they might come through the wormholes and attack us?"

Emily considered this. "It appears that the civil war was over resources, possibly fossil fuels. If they thought we had a greater supply they might, but it's a distant possibility."

"Any clue what they might try as a first strike?"

"I don't think they would strike first. They used unmanned drones, what the Missionaries called 'flyers' to control the population. From what I could tell their drone technology is significantly more advanced than ours. My best analysis is that they would try to send drones through first for surveillance."

Major Knox nodded. "We can work with that." He closed his file. "Your team is being asked to work with the task force, to help us resettle the refugees since your director is unwilling to let us just have you alone. Willing to act as a liaison?"

"I'll do whatever I can to help." Emily told him. "Where are they being resettled to?"

"Good old Area 51, middle of the Nevada desert where no one will find them"

Wait a minute. "The desert? These people are farmers from a temperate area. They'll never survive in the desert."

"Oh, we have no problem supporting their needs. We have a controlled environment out there where we can make them comfortable."

Controlled environment. "You're sending them to a prison camp? They haven't done anything wrong! In fact they've been offering nothing but help! They have rights!"

Major Knox sighed. "It's not like they're citizens, of any country. Besides, you don't even know that they're anything close to human. It's like…monkeys or something. They'll be fine."

Emily was on the verge of telling him to take his interagency cooperation, fold it to all corners and stuff it….but that wasn't helpful. If they went along they'd have an in with the security and the location and maybe they could figure a way out of this. Maybe.

When they got to the Ops Center Emily found that she wasn't the only one who disagreed with this plan. "These are people." Dr. Jenkins was saying. "You can't lock them up for no reason, they have rights!"

"You have to define people first. Dr. Jenkins." The Colonel in charge replied. "You said yourself these aren't  _Homo sapiens_."

"That doesn't mean they're animals!"

As the argument raged on Emily turned to look at the crowd in the room. This place was packed with more brass than a metal factory. Behind them were monitors showing the still active cameras inside quarantine. She spotted so many familiar faces, people, real people with hopes and dreams and families and lives. Not security threats. Not animals. People.

And then she spotted something else. "Who is that?" She asked one of the techs.

"That is…" She checked her notes. "Lt. Kira Capaill. She's the assistant to the chief military officer and one of our translators."

"Who's that with her?"

"Her daughter, um, Kitta Capaill. According to the records they gave us she's five."

"These monitors aren't in color. Do you have any kind of a description?"

"Light brown hair, curly from the looks of it, hazel eyes. Oh, and it says here she's already picked up English, probably indicative of a high IQ."

"Any record of her father?"

"No, Ma'am. She's the only child listed without one."

"Do we know the date they left their planet relative to the date they arrived here?"

"No. Ma'am but wormholes are funny things. They could have jumped any distance backward and forward in time."

"Thank you." Emily took a deep breath. "Hotch?"

"Yeah." He was immediately at her side.

She lowered her voice. "Reid never told anyone what happened in there."

"So?"

"So that's the woman he was with."

Hotch grasped the problem immediately. "Not before?"

"No. I was with the family for two days, I would have known."

Hotch only had to consider for a moment. "We can use this to our advantage."

"I agree."

"Will they play along?"

Emily mentally stepped back and considered Andrew. Would he play along? "Yes."

"Good." Hotch turned to the room. "Colonel, we have a problem."

"What's that Agent Hotchner?"

Emily took a deep breath. "I lied, Sir. I know why the Missionaries raided the prison facility. It was because I asked them to. I instigated the raid, I was on it, and I missed any sign that we were tracked. This whole thing is my fault."

That got everyone's attention. "What?" The Colonel leaned forward. "Why?"

"Because, I wasn't the only agent who got caught up in a wormhole that day. Unfortunately my partner was caught in the same sweep as their staff member within minutes of our landing, before we had a chance to connect. I wasn't going to let him rot in one of their prisons for a year."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" The Colonel asked.

"Because he spent the entire time in a prison facility," Emily replied. "That is neither easy to talk about nor germane to a conversation about national security."

"How does that prove that these are people?" Someone asked.

"Because the hospital staff member caught up in the sweep was Lt. Kira Capaill." Emily told them. "She didn't have a daughter when she was captured."

The penny started dropping around the room. JJ 's eyes widened in shock while someone in the room groaned. No, that was the Colonel. "Are you saying?"

"That Kitta Capaill could be Agent Reid's daughter? Yes I am."


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1107**   
**Day #35**

**Emily**

As the discussion raged Emily saw Hotch ease back and pull one of Garcia's special scrambled phones out of his pocket.

"Could be his child," the Colonel said. "You don't know for sure? Have we done a DNA test?"

"No Sir." Dr. Jenkins replied. "They wouldn't let us take blood samples from the children."

"Well go get one."

"As human beings they have all the rights granted by the United Nations." Emily pointed out. "Including the right to refuse medical care, and for a parent to refuse said care for their children. You can't force the test on them."

"We still don't know that they're human."

"If we can cross-breed then they are." Dr. Jenkins replied. "Genus  _Homo_ , at least."

"We can only prove that with a DNA test, but if they are then they have the right to refuse that test." The Colonel replied. "You're sticking us with a Catch-22 here. How do we find out?"

By now they had the Director himself up on a video link. "Ask the parents." He told them, "It's not like Lt. Capaill knows what's at stake and we can ask Dr. Reid under oath."

"Even if he says yes, what difference does it make?" The Colonel asked.

"It makes a big difference to me." The Director replied. "You're not locking the family of an FBI agent up in a shit-hole prison in the Nevada desert."

"You would turn this into an inter-agency pissing match?"

"In a heartbeat."

"Dr. Reid did come up with evidence to show that they might be descendents of an Anglo-Saxon hunting party from the 1200's." Emily added. "That would make them descendents of citizens of Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Ireland, if it comes to settling the question of nationality…"

"Especially with children involved," JJ pointed out.

"Someone tell me again why we brought in the FBI." The Colonel mumbled. "Okay, let's go ask her."

"How about if we just bring them here," Emily said.

"They're still under quarantine!"

"Colonel, I was there. Actually, physically there. Since returning I've been to Washington DC, Miami, Tucson, Seattle and FBI Headquarters at Quantico. If there was any sort of infectious agent on that planet that could wipe out this one, we're already toast."

The Colonel sighed. "Fine, bring them here."

* * *

Moments later Emily was pushing her way through layers of plastic sheeting to get into the makeshift dorm. "Andrew." She said, as soon as she walked in. Okay, she thought, do what I know you will.

"Emily!" Sure enough nearly seven feet and three hundred pounds of Viking came right over and picked her up into an immense hug.

"Don't put me down yet." She murmured. "Kira has a little girl?"

"Well, it's…"

"Is it Spencer's?"

"What?"

"Tell everyone that it's Spencer's child. Very important, I'll explain later."

When Andrew put her on her feet his eyes were shadowed with pain. But he nodded and went to get his sister as Emily greeted Reka and Merina in the same way. By the time Kira had been told of her request Merina and Reka had started the passing the word, murmured from one colonist to the next. By the time Kira and Andrew returned with a sleep little girl in her uncle's arms and everyone was ready to go Kira was closed down tight. And no one looked happy.

Great. She'd missed something. There just wasn't any time, hopefully whatever it was wouldn't bite her in the ass later.

Then the five adults and the little girl returned to the conference where a heated debate was still going on. But as soon as the people in cloaks broached the door the room fell silent, and for the first time the two species truly met face to face. The Colonel cleared his throat. "As I understand it no one here has been formally introduced. Perhaps that would be a good place to start." Introductions went around the room, starting with him and ending with Kira. "I presume this is your daughter?" Kira nodded as Kitta squirmed over to her arms. "Yes, it has recently come to my attention that one of our people may have caused this bit of a problem."

Andrew had been translating for Merina, now she spoke up. "We don't see it as a problem, Colonel. To us all children are a blessing, no matter how they come about."

"My first concern is if a formal apology is in order. If Dr. Reid's conduct was in any way…"

"As I understand it Dr. Reid's conduct was exemplary."

That alone took the stress in the room down a notch. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Dr. Jenkins asked.

"It wasn't the appropriate time." Merina replied. "As I said when we talked we did not come here to cause any trouble. Once we had a chance to settle we were going to approach Emily and the rest of Dr. Reid's family quietly."

"His family?" The Colonel asked. "Why not approach him?"

All of a sudden it hit Emily so hard that she couldn't stop it from coming out of her mouth. "Oh god! They think he's dead!"

"Why?" The Colonel asked.

"Most people don't survive their prisons without some kind of medical intervention afterwards. There wasn't time for him to receive treatment there; I got him in to the first wormhole we found."

"How is he?"

"We were able to get Agent Reid out before he was injured too badly, he's fine."

"Injured? Why would they assume injury?"

Maj. Knox cleared his throat. "When techniques like this are used to control a population they usually involve some form of…enhanced interrogation."

"Enhanced interrogation?" The Director somehow became even more focused. "Are you saying their prison system includes torture?"

Damn it all to hell. Emily nodded. "Yes, Sir. But he's fine, really. We just finished a case yesterday, he was with us in the field."

The Director spoke up from the video link. "I know Dr. Reid personally." He admitted quietly. "I know we're not supposed to take sides in someone else's civil war but I may have to have a private opinion on this one."

Everyone looked over at the newcomers who were all quietly smiling, and if Kira happened to be holding Kitta extra tight and keeping her face in the little girl's hair, well, no one said anything. "We are very glad to hear it." Merina said. "Now that we know of this I'm sure Lt. Capaill would like to speak to him. But we see no need to make private business an official matter.

"Normally we would avoid doing so as well." The Colonel agreed. "But this child is Dr. Reid's daughter that makes her a citizen of this planet as well as yours. We would then bear certain obligations in this matter. So I am afraid we have to ask…"

They all looked over at Kira, who was still hiding her tears in Kitta's hair. She nodded for a long moment. "Yes", she finally admitted, and sniffed.

"Great." The Colonel sighed. "Has anyone heard from the father yet?"

At that point Hotch stepped forward.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**Rossi.**

"Hang on Hotch." Rossi muted the 'Garcia special' and strode into the bullpen. "Reid! My office! Now!" Reid, who had been doing nothing but watching the news feeds all day, quickly moved to follow. At Rossi's nod Morgan joined them. "Okay, look, I'm sorry but I have to ask." Rossi said as soon as he shut the door. "Is there any chance that Kira was pregnant when you left her?"

Reid gave him a look so innocent you could have used it to sell milk. "Yes." He confessed.

"Any chance it's yours?"

"Yes."

Morgan's groan expressed everyone's feelings on the subject.

* * *

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1105**   
**Day #35**

**Emily**

"Agent Rossi," Hotch said to his phone after setting it to speaker. "You're on speaker. Repeat what you just told me."

"Romeo just confessed." Rossi replied. "It's his."

"Great." The Colonel said. "Just great."

"That means they're not going to the desert." The Director said.

"What's a desert?" Reka asked.

"I'll explain later." Emily reassured her.

"Gentlemen," Hotch said quietly. "May I suggest we hold off on this discussion until Dr. Reid arrives? Our pilots are down for the night, but I can have him here first thing in the morning."

"Excellent idea Agent Hotchner," The Director said. "I will be joining you all as well. I want to be certain that this family is treated with the utmost respect."

Emily met JJ's eyes and they exchanged pained smiles. This day just kept getting better.


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1107**   
**Day #36**

**Spencer**

He honestly didn't know what to expect.

Spencer knew that as of this morning the quarantine was lifted. On the plane Hotch had briefed them about what the refuges were doing, specifically what Kira and Kitta were doing. Spencer knew that they were sleeping in a makeshift dormitory but that they seemed comfortable in it, that they'd had roast chicken for dinner which Kira managed to eat after some coaching, that the military force guarding them had finally relaxed enough to pull out balls and toys and that the children were supposed to be spending the morning out of doors in the crisp, fall air. In fact he felt rather guilty about all the attention Hotch was paying to this. But until he knew more he wasn't going to say a thing. He just hoped everyone forgave him in time.

They pulled up after going through an immense number of checkpoints and spotted a small gathering of parents watching other parents and the children and some of the personnel at the base all trying to teach or learn what looked like soccer. "Know which one she is?" Morgan asked.

But a moment later it was obvious. Kira stood there, staring as if she truly was seeing a ghost as he walked up to her. "I thought you were dead." She said at last.

"Earthlings are very sturdy." Spencer said quietly. "We tend to bounce."

She reached out and gently tugged on the ends of his purple scarf. "I pictured your string in just this color." She admitted.

He slid a hand up under her skaut to gently cover the back of her neck, to feel the warmth of her through the thin membrane hidden back there. "I pictured yours the color of your eyes." He admitted in return.

"I thought you were dead." Kira murmured again as she closed her eyes to savor the sensation.

"I thought I'd never see you again. I'm sorry I let go."

"No." Kira said. "You never let go. I thought you were dead but I never felt you let go." Then she leaned against him and was in his arms again, and he was protecting her as she was protecting him and everything in the universe was exactly the way it ought to be.

A moment later he groaned slightly. He couldn't help it, she was here, nothing separated them. He had to try. "I'm sorry" he said, and then he leaned down and kissed her. This immediately drew shocked gasps from the other women around and wild laughter from the children but for once in his life Spencer didn't care if he made a spectacle of himself. She tasted of herbs still, and honey and something wild and wonderful. She tasted like his dreams.

A shadow fell over them and someone was nudging her shoulder. "Get a room." Andrew said.

"Go away." Kira replied.

But the spell of first meeting was broken. Andrew grinned as they finally stepped apart. "Spencer. Good to see you alive and well."

"Thank you." Spencer replied. "And thank you for coming after us; I never had a chance to say that."

"Thank you for looking after my sister."

Spencer looked at Kira for a long moment, "Anytime."

Someone called to Andrew right about then, and Kira waded off into the soccer game. Then there was Emily, with JJ not far behind. "I am so sorry." Emily said right off the bat. "I would have called you and warned you but there wasn't time. They were going to ship them off to a prison camp in Nevada. By saying something we got the Director on our side, we needed that kind of pull."

Spencer winced. "I'm glad you said something, I've been to that desert."

"Yeah but what a way to find out about…"

"It's all right, I trust your judgment." He might have said more, he knew the team would never give them away and out here odds were no one was listening. But then Kira was back, and she was holding someone in her arms, a small someone in a cloak the color of raspberries whose hair was trying to curl its way out of her pigtails, and who smiled at him with hazel eyes. "Hello." He said in Sisterian. "Are you Kitta?"

"I am." She said. "I have a loose tooth, want to see?"

"Maybe not at the moment."

"Are you Spencer?" She asked.

"I am."

"Oh. It's nice to meet you." And with that she let go of Kira and threw herself into Spencer's arms.

She was heavier than she looked; heavier than Henry at any rate. Spencer looked around; he only had a few moments for this. Thankfully everyone seemed to be giving them some space. "Did Kira tell you who I was?" He asked Kitta, very quietly.

Kitta nodded. "She said you're going to pretend to be my Poppa, until we get to our new home." Kitta told him. "Then she said she hopes you'll be my brother someday."

Kira's cheeks instantly turned deep pink. "Kitta!" She whispered.

Spencer couldn't help it, he started chuckling. "Did she?" Kitta nodded. "Well I hope so too. Now, do you want to meet my family?" Kitta nodded again so Spencer brought her over to the team. "Did you meet Emily already?" Kitta nodded another time. "This is JJ, she has a son a little younger than you named Henry, and this is Hotch he has a son about your age named Jack, and this is Derek, and this…." Okay, they might kill him for this one but it was totally worth it. "…is Grandpa Dave."

"What?" Dave said.

But Kitta totally missed it. She took one look at Morgan, her eyes going completely wide, and then covered her eyes and buried her head in Spencer's shoulder. "What?" Morgan asked. Kitta babbled something that made both Kira and Spencer turn red. "What did she say?"

"She, um, said you're very nude." Kira replied, her cheeks gone dull red. "I'm sorry, she shouldn't have said anything."

Morgan hung his head and trudged back to the SUV, heading for the back where they kept the hats.

Just then someone called out that breakfast was on. Spencer looked at Kitta and gasped. "You haven't had breakfast yet?" She shook her head. "Do you know what we're having?"

"Pancakes," Kitta told him.

"And sausage," Kira said, "If you're up for it."

Spencer took a deep breath. "I've been working on that." He admitted. "I think as long as I don't eat any we'll be fine. Have you ever had pancakes before?" Kitta shook her head. "Well this morning is an good morning to have your first."

"Can you eat them with a loose tooth?" Kitta asked as Spencer finally put her on her feet.

"Mmm-hmm, they're very good with loose teeth. But if your tooth does fall out, I happen to know that the tooth fairy around here does very well."

Kitta's eyes went wide and she covered her mouth. "I don't want the fae to take all my teeth!" She told him.

"Oh, no, no, no. Around here when they fall out you tuck them under your pillow and the tooth fairy replaces them with coins. Like this one." With that Spencer pulled a quarter out of her ear.

Kitta's eyes went wide. "Do it again!"

"I have to make it disappear first." Spencer quickly palmed it, but when he went to scoop and show the coin in his left hand he winced even as he made it work. "And then it shows up again…here." He quickly pulled the coin out of Kira's ear, bringing on a gap-toothed grin. But Kira wasn't smiling, not like that.

And Rossi noticed. "Hey Kitta, how about if…" He sighed. "What's Sisterian for 'Grandpa'?"

"Um, Farfar, I think."

"How about if Farfar Dave takes you in and get you started with those pancakes, give these two a chance to talk a bit."

"Okay." Kitta quickly put her hand in his and let him take her into the building, along with the rest of the team.

As soon as they were gone Kira reached down and cradled his hand in hers. "It didn't heal?"

"Not all the way." But he could still tangle their fingers. "It was worth it."

"I'll need to knit you mittens now." She looked up at him. "How have you been?"

"A mess. You?"

"Horrible. I think they gave me Kitta to give me a reason to try."

"You needed one?"

"With you gone? That's the one thing no one ever understood, I couldn't heal, I was too busy…."

"…mourning?" Spencer finished for her. He knew. He'd been mourning her loss for weeks. "And now?"

"Now?" Kira looked back at the building where her people were being housed. "Now we have other problems."

Good point. But she had yet to let go. "I think I might have some solutions. But first we need pancakes."


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Building #1107**   
**Day #36**

The first thing we need to do, Spencer thought, once he ran through the deep breathing routine he'd learned to control his reaction to that smell (it's just a smell. A smell cannot hurt you) is get control of the research types. No, we need to get them to safe harbor. No, we need to figure out how to transport…no...is that woman pregnant….and what about….

Emily must have noticed the look on his face. "You all right?" She asked quietly, joining him at the door as Kira was called away.

"No." Spencer replied. "I don't know where to start. And that's not even counting my own issues."

Emily nodded. "Speaking of which, we had to tell them that you were in a government prison that included torture. They're going to want to debrief you on that."

"Great." Spencer looked down at his hand. "I can throw them a bone on that one. Or twelve."

"Good." Emily sighed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Um, actually there is a lot more to this. I'll explain later."

"Why not now?"

"Too many opportunities for people to listen."

"Fair enough. Well, knowing you I suggest you start with coffee and then make a list. They need to be in some kind of protective custody or else every whack-job in North America is going to be after them."

"I know, I have an idea for a place that will meet their needs. Excuse me." Spencer left Emily and headed for a tall, stern man who was speaking with a small knot of officers off to one side. "Excuse me, Sir?"

"Ah, Dr. Reid." The Director said, offing a smile and a handshake. "It's good to see you looking well."

"Thank you, Sir." Spencer accepted and returned both. "Yes, it's, um, nothing that won't heal."

"Well good, good. I'd say take some time off but given the situation I think it would be better if you stayed on the clock until everything is settled."

"I was going to ask if I could be assigned to the task force…"

The Director shook his head and lowered his voice. "I'm not assigning any individuals at the present time. At the moment I think it prudent that the entire BAU team be assigned, with Agent Hotchner taking the lead in dealing with the brass."

Ah. "Yes, Sir."

"But once everything settles then we'll see. For now it looks like you have pancakes to eat." The Director nodded to where Rossi and Kitta were just getting to the café line. "Oh, and, Spencer." The Director dropped his voice even further. "I don't know how Lt. Capaill ended up with that necklace but you might tell her to keep it under her shirt for now."

Necklace? It took a moment for Spencer to realize what he must mean. "I will do that, thank you Sir."

"Good! Glad to have you aboard." The Director boomed and moved on.

Spencer caught up with Dave and Kitta, only to have Dave give him a funny look. "What?"

"Later. Right now we have to decide between honey, syrup or jam."

"That's a tough one."

A moment later familiar voices were heard coming down the stairs from the temporary dormitory. A moment later Andrew and Kira came into view, mid-squabble. "I said not right now." Kira told her brother.

"Why not?" Andrew asked her. "It jumps start the process by a quarter moon."

"Not with his people around."

"It takes less than a minute and, they won't even notice. Besides, if something does happen it's probably better to have his people around. We don't know how to treat him."

Rossi looked over. "Do I want a translation?"

"I'd rather not discuss it in front of Kitta." Kira replied, changing languages. She looked down at the Kitta in question. "What are you doing? You look very sticky."

"Tasting." Kitta told her as she sucked on a honey-coated finger. "This is the good one, the others are ucky."

"Honey it is." Dave said as he quickly built plates. "I'm guessing you're not used to processed food. Wait until I introduce you to real maple and real jam."

In the mean time Spencer looked up at Andrew. "Am I the 'him' you're talking about?" He asked in English.

"Yes." Andrew replied in Sisterian. "Hard-head over there was refusing medical treatment before we left."

Spencer didn't have to say anything; he just turned and looked at Kira. Why would she refuse, after everything they had been through? "There wasn't a point without you." She told him.

"I felt the same way." He told her. "We were both wrong, you know."

Andrew continued. "I asked her if being here and finding you, well, alive changed her mind, and thankfully she said yes."

"Good. Anything I can do to help?"

"Um…ah…partners are usually asked to be involved, yes."

"Problem?"

Andrew sighed. "I'm using the term partner and referring to my sister. Not easy."

"Understandable."

"But at the morning meeting…"

"You discussed me in a meeting?" Kira bristled.

Andrew rolled his eyes at her. "Yes. We have three doctors, three nurses, and five medical students and only four patients, three of whom are pregnant. You're a fairly popular topic of conversation in the staff meetings." He turned back to Spencer. "At the staff meeting the question of another species reacting to our medications came up so I suggested we do an allergy test first."

Spencer frowned. "Am I going to be discussed at these meetings?"

Andrew opened his mouth a few times. "Probably." He admitted. "I mean if you want help…."

"He does." Rossi said. By now they had full plates and were settling at one of the tables. "Test him after breakfast."

The three of them turned to him. "How do you know what we're talking about?" Kira asked. In reply Rossi pointed down to his little translator. "Conspiracy." Kia muttered

"She's not the only one who's been avoiding things." Rossi said as he helped with the honey. "But I would be willing to bet that he's going to have the same change of heart."

"I'm probably supposed to have some kind of debriefing after breakfast." Spencer said. "Speaking of…" He turned Kira to face him and peeped down her shirt at her necklace. Sure enough, there was his 5-year coin. Oh boy. "Please keep that covered up until we have a chance to talk."

"All right." She replied.

"Debriefing can wait." Rossi replied. "Get that allergy test first but have one of the medics here supervise, just in case. Then go talk to whoever is handling getting everyone settled. A debriefing is not a priority, as much as they like to think it is. And then we'll figure out how to satisfy everyone's curiosity, other people can wait."

Spencer frowned. He was missing something in all of this, something wasn't right. "Shouldn't taking care of the colony be the first priority?'

"If you don't take care of yourself first you're not going to be in any shape to care for others." Rossi replied. "For starters, eat. All three of you."

"They're good!" Kitta told them.

For the next twenty minutes Spencer and Kira sat and ate and listened to Rossi and Andrew tell Kitta gentle, funny stories. Just like a family.


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

**United States Naval Base**   
**Recruit Training Center**   
**On the shores of Lake Michigan**   
**Great Lakes, IL**   
**Train Depot**   
**Day #39**

**Spencer**

The three days after Spencer's reunion were so busy he hadn't had time to think of himself once.

The allergy test consisted of nothing more than a few pricks to the inside of his arm, consisting of a couple of control substances and this green oil that they had packed with them from Litla Deirfiúr, Little Sister in their language. He had reacted properly to the controls, proving that he was healthy himself, and then had grown an itchy wheal in reaction to the green oil. A round of antihistamine knocked the reaction down, but the result was clear. Still, he had begged her to start treatment, but she had refused. "When we have some privacy."

"We can go back to my hotel room. We can take one of the healers with us."

"When we're settled. Not before."

Sigh.

* * *

 

Getting them settled turned out to me much easier than anyone had expected. "The Catoctin Mountain Shaker Village," Spencer had suggested in what turned out to be a ridiculously short meeting. "It's part of the Catoctin Mountain National Park, one hour and twenty-six minutes northwest of DC." He called it up on the large display.

"Where have I heard that name before?" The Colonel asked.

"The National Park Service has been endeavoring to turn it into an interactive museum but they keep running into problems with the neighbor on the other side of the mountain." Spencer pulled back to reveal that neighbor. "It's two miles outside of the Camp David boundary, just outside the security zone."

"We could easily give it its own security zone." Major Knox said. "Say we're expanding the zone around Camp David, no one would question that."

"It's far enough away from urban area to be out of the way but close enough to allow them to participate in research and it's already set up for the sort of very low tech, temperate climate farming they're used to." Spencer added. "The buildings will need to be remodeled somewhat to meet their needs but according to the NPS reports the structures themselves are sound and they have sewer, plumbing and electrical run to all but the minor outbuildings. It shouldn't take much to get them in there; all we'll have to do is finish before winter."

"I like it." The Colonel said. "Tell the National Park service we're taking it from them."

"Just to be clear, these people are not going to be prisoners." The UN representative spoke up. It had been decided that the simplest, quietest way to settle the question of nationality was to give them all UN passports used for stateless refugees, and then US immigration papers. This gave them another body looking out for their rights. "They will have freedom to travel and to communicate as they choose?"

"And we will facilitate that for as long as it takes for everyone to get used to the idea." The Colonel reassured him. "Be it escorts or what have you. Your people can monitor if you find it necessary. Dr. Reid, I assume you'll be acting as liaison with the academic community?"

"Yes, sir."

"What about the media?" It was a big question. There had been a number of videos out about the arrival, but that was five days ago and in that time there had been no official word. The rumors were flying.

JJ cleared her throat. "The easiest way to control the message getting out would be to embed a team willing to work with us." She told them. "If people are getting the official message they'll be less likely to believe the nonsense on the net."

"Any suggestions?"

"Peterson at the  _Times_."

"We can make that happen. Now how are we going to get them there? Is there an airport nearby?"

Emily stepped in. "Sir, the only time these people use air transport is when they're being taken to or from a prison facility. Flying would send the wrong message."

"We can't caravan." Major Knox pointed out. "It's too far and too risky."

Spencer spoke up, "They are familiar with train travel…."

* * *

 

And that was how they ended up here, standing on the station platform three days later, waiting for a special train to pull in to the station. They had determined that with a few detours they could fit Amtrak's western stock under the bridges between here and the station nearest their new home, and the two-story cars were easier to secure so they'd waited for them to arrive. Now the Sisterians were acting less like a nervous flock and more like travelers, forming small knots and wandering back and forth, decorating the platform in their bright colored cloaks. The photographer from the  _Times_  was having a field day.

Spencer and Emily were going to ride the train with the Sisterians, acting as translators and liaisons, and Morgan was coming along because he wanted to have their backs, just in case. Rossi, Hotch and JJ were going to fly back, spend a day with their families or editor and then meet them at the mountain. This was the first time they'd had a private chance to meet since their last case. "At least you two get to share a room." JJ said. "Why didn't she want to stay with you at the hotel?"

"Safety in numbers," Spencer replied. "You only got picked up in sweeps when you were alone."

"Yeah, but you'd think she'd want to give you time with your daughter."

"About that." Rossi said. "So when were you going to tell us?"

"Tell us what?" JJ looked from one man to the other.

"That Kitta isn't his, or Kira's."

The rest of the team looked at Spencer in shock. But he just looked confused. "When did you find out?" He asked.

"While we were lining up for pancakes Kitta asked me if I was going to pretend to be her Farfar like you and Kira were pretending to be her Momma and Poppa." Rossi replied. "When did you find out?"

"I knew Kitta wasn't mine…"

"How?" Emily asked seconds before it hit her. "Okay, never mind."

"…but I calculated that there was a fifteen percent chance that she was in fact pregnant when we separated. If that was the case and she was raising the child given how she got pregnant I figured she deserved all the help and support she could get. Not only was there the question of how our military would react to a single mother. And Kitta deserved a father." Spencer sighed. "I'm sorry I lied to you all but from when Kevin called us I figured there was a chance someone could be listening."

"So you were trying to protect her reputation?' Morgan asked.

Spencer nodded. "You are too good for your own good sometimes." JJ told him.

"It gave us the political power we needed to get them to safety." Hotch said. "That doesn't mean you should do it again."

"Hopefully I won't have to." Spencer replied. "When I arrived here I realized that Kitta wasn't Kira's child either."

"How?" Hotch asked.

"If Kitta was hers at least six years would have had to pass on Litla Deirfiúr in the thirty-nine days since we flew across Lake Michigan. But Kira's hair hasn't grown more than a quarter of an inch since I last saw her."

They all groaned and nodded. "So Kitta couldn't be hers." Emily agreed. "How long has it been for them?'

"Fifty-nine days since we were caught up in the sweep." Spencer said. "A distinct time shift from a scientific point of view, but from a sociological point of view not that long."

"So who is Kitta then?"

"An orphan one of the Missionary teams found and brought back about a month before the war broke out. Apparently she kind of glommed on to Kira and so they asked her and Andrew to take her in as a baby sister. They figured she would be safer with a family to look after her during the transition and they hoped that having someone to look after would pull Kira out of mourning. Once they were in quarantine Dr. Kaerleikar decided that Kitta would be safer with an actual mother and so listed Kira as such, and then, Emily, you told them to pretend Kitta was mine."

"So her people have known the truth all along." Rossi nodded. "And now we do as well. Only the military are still in the dark."

"Let's keep it that way." Hotch said. "It would work easier for everyone if an FBI Agent's family was still involved."

"Of course that means that we still don't know if Sisterians and Earthlings can make little hybrids." Morgan pointed out. "Please tell me you're at least getting curious."

"Yeah, that is one adorable potential sister-in-law there." Emily agreed. "We need to keep her around."

"And we could use a few more." Rossi added. "Now you owe me grandkids."

"I'm not a part of this conversation." Hotch told them all.

Spencer looked over to where Kitta was using Andrew as a jungle gym. She was cute as hell and quite bright. And the thought of maybe somehow having more around like her, or even just being with Kira, watching Kitta grow up… Right now he was still too afraid to even consider how he and Kira would go about that, but was he willing to try? "Yes." He answered to every question. And then the train came into the station and he went to join his family.

 


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61**

**Amtrak Special #337**   
**Eastbound out of Great Lakes, IL**   
**Day #39**

**Andrew**

Riding on an Earth train was turning out to be the perfect introduction to their new home.

They had the upstairs of four 'cars' available for them, two with little sleeping areas in the front, then something called a 'lounge car' which was enormously popular. It was nearly all windows, with reasonably comfortable chairs and a place where they could make tea and where they had milk and simple things for the children. Since everyone wanted to get a look at their new planet people quickly settled in to their sleeping quarters and then headed to this lounge to get a seat and watch the world go by. Past that was a kitchen car, and then beyond was something they called a 'parlor car', which was being used for meetings and talking with the researchers. Cars beyond that and more or less everything downstairs were reserved for the local Guardians.

Unfortunately this meant that when he misplaced his sister he had to thread his way through all five cars to find her.

He found her in her bedroom, the one she was supposed to be sharing with Spencer and Kitta for the next three nights. She was curled up on the bench seat in there, right in the corner. One look at her face and he sighed and sat. "First time we've had a chance to talk in…okay, so what's wrong?"

"He's alive." Kira said faintly.

Andrew nodded. "I thought that was a good thing." Kira shrugged. "Do you care for him?"

She nodded. "Almost as much as you," she said, and then, "Maybe more than that."

"So then isn't alive a good thing?"

She was quiet a long moment. "I'm scared." She admitted.

"Of?"

"All of it. When it was over, when we were on our way back, I hurt so much…."

"I know."

She finally looked at him, "How?"

"Student Healer, studying exactly that sort of problem." He'd known that his sister's body was deeply affected by what had happened, that he was unable to treat what happened quickly, that she spent most of the trip back to the Abbey in pain because of it. And that she hadn't said anything, had tried not to conceal that fact knowing that he could do nothing and not wanting him to feel guilty. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more."

"I know."

How upset was she right now? "I could have turned the wagon seat into a Queen's chair…" He teased gently.

"Ewww!" Kira threw a gentle punch into his shoulder, showing that she wasn't upset to the point of being unable to function.

"Well?" Right then, back to the topic at hand. "Is that why you're afraid now? You don't want it to happen again?"

She sighed and went back to looking out the window. "That's part of it." She admitted.

"Given the way Spencer looks at you I don't think he's going to let that happen." Andrew told her. "And even if he does Giles has also been keeping an eye on you lately."

"And Alfdis has been keeping an eye on him." Kira replied. "I know Spencer, I know he…he loves me as much as I love him, I know he'll…I didn't say it was a logical fear."

He chuckled. "Fear doesn't have to be logical. How do you think he feels?"

"I think he's probably just as afraid."

"At least you're starting from the same spot."

"Unfortunately," she sighed. "Not where I'd like to start."

"I know, but…" No, there was something in her body language that wasn't right. "Before I go off in the wrong direction would you clarify that?"

She was quiet a moment. "We never got to play." Ahhhh. "It always looked like so much fun and now there's…I just wish we could have. I regret that. Is that silly?"

"What, being upset because you lost out on the chance to have a proper courtship?" She nodded. "On the one hand, no. Sis, you've lost a lot in the past, what, three months? You haven't had a chance to really heal from any of it; at this point even the smallest loss is going to feel immense simply because of the piles of losses beneath it. I wouldn't blame you for getting sad over losing a shoe, let alone something as important as a courtship."

"But on the other hand…"

"On the other hand you haven't lost it yet. There's nothing to stop you from having a courtship, I mean other then Spencer not knowing what to expect, and he seems like the kind who would rather someone just tell him straight out. I don't mind explaining it to him."

Kira's eyes were huge when she turned to look at him. "What do you mean there's nothing to stop it? We're on another  _planet_ , Andrew, nothing is the same here.  _I'm_  not the same now; I couldn't make myself feel pretty to catch his eye if I tried. Besides, I already have, so what would be the point?"

"The point would be for the joy of it." He replied. "There doesn't need to be another reason. If nothing else, enjoying the process would foil the Dark God's desire to make you miserable. And, you know, the whole new planet thing might go hand in hand with you saying you can't make yourself feel pretty. I know all of this has been hard on you," He gently brushed the three tiny curls which were all she could coax out from under her skaut. "But maybe there are other options here. I'm just glad you said 'feel' and not 'look'…"

"…because if he's going to help me through treatment he's going to get a good look anyway." Kira said. "Yes, I know. I don't know if I'm upset about that or not. He keeps telling me I'm beautiful, but I don't feel that way."

"Then that's something to work on, which is part of courtship anyway."

All of a sudden her cheeks were burning. "I really don't know if I want to." She admitted. "Be courted right now, that is."

Okay, he just lost the conversation here. "Why not?"

She pointed to the window in the compartment door where one of the local Guardians in his mottled clothing was walking by. "That's why not. They're all watching, observing, poking in to everything. It's not just our community, you know? I don't want them asking a zillion questions over why I'm doing this or why we're doing that. On top of having to continue to pretend Spencer and I are married."

Andrew chuckled gently. "They're scientists, we're new. It's normal for them to have questions."

"Well, it's not normal for me." Kira sat back with a huff and looked out the window again, her arms wrapped around her body.

Defensive posture, Andrew thought, there is more to this. "What are you thinking?" He asked very gently.

She was quiet a long moment. "They were watching us." She told him at last, "All those people, with their cameras. Watching everything that happened, watching us…break. You couldn't hide anything…physical, it just….now it feels like these people are trying to see inside our heads and hearts too, and then what do you have left?"

Andrew sighed, put his arm around his sister's shoulders and pulled her in close. Put it like that and it would feel like another violation. He just hadn't made the connection before, none of them had. "I didn't realize." He admitted. "I'm sorry. From now on you're off limits, period. They want to poke around people and relationships we'll call for volunteers. You are strictly a translator from now on."

She snorted. "Think that will really work?"

"We'll make it work. You'll see. And as for pretending to be married, well, make-believe is a form of play, isn't it?"

"Not when everyone believes it's real."

"Maybe our people have been trying too hard."

"Just a little."

"We can fix that." Andrew looked down at his twin sister, baby by all of twenty minutes. "Feeling any better?"

Kira smiled. "I think so."

"Good."

"You're a wonderful brother you know."

Andrew just smiled. "Yes, I do."


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62**

**Amtrak Special #337**   
**Eastbound out of Great Lakes, IL**   
**Day #39**

**Emily**

"So she wants to be courted?" Emily asked. They were in the parlor car, down in the 'theater', a little space with about 20 old movie theater seats and a space for a big screen TV that was now occupied by a SmartBoard. It had become their briefing room, no doubt why Spencer had specified that one of these cars was included with the special train. But right now there were no briefings scheduled so she and Andrew had some privacy to talk.

"No." Andrew replied. There was no way he was going to fit in one of those seats so he was sitting on the floor at the front of the room. "Not exactly. Um, in our culture the woman is the one who does the courting. And she's not the only one currently interested. Not in Spencer, in general."

"So what's the problem?"

"I'm not sure. In her case part of it is lack of privacy. Well, I think that might apply to all of them but in her case it's not just shyness but it's also triggering. She was already forced through her first time for what felt like everyone to see back in the Cages, now to her it feels like if she initiates everyone here is going to be watching."

Emily winced. "I can see that being a problem."

"Another part is just…not knowing what's ahead. How are we going to adapt our rituals, our culture to this world and this culture? Even physically how are we going to adapt?"

"What do you mean?"

Andrew sighed. "For us the culmination of the ritual is when the woman takes the man back to her room for the night. That does want a certain privacy which we just don't have…"

"You will though."

"Will we? The bedrooms in some of those houses look to be built for three to four people. I mean I'm sure we can come up with something, but the uncertainty is hard. Part of the whole ritual for us is to have the bridal maidens, a girl's friends, encouraging her on, but no one knows how to do that in this environment. Earlier one of the girls said to me that a friend of hers was ready to start and she couldn't even give her a bar of soap to take to the bath, no baths and all the soap is the same." He shook his head. "We didn't expect to come here, Emily. We did not plan for this."

"No, you didn't."

"And it's not helping that we've never had to help a courting couple through the healing process."

"Never?"

"No. Before this with every couple one or both always believed in the Dark God's ways before they came to us. In their faith if a woman engages in any sort of sexual behavior with another man, yes even rape, it's always her fault and always justifies ending the relationship. We don't believe that, and I am dammed glad that you're people don't either…"

"Most of us." Emily admitted.

"…but it does give them a powerful shared experience that co-opted the entire process. She feels like she's lost that process, that experience, on top of a lot of other losses and she's hurting from it. And a lot of other girls are feeling the same way, only not as intently because it's not coming on top of other losses. I don't know what to do." Andrew slumped back against the cabinet in defeat.

"But they haven't lost anything yet. I mean, this isn't going to last forever. In a few months the excitement will die down and you'll have figured out how everything is going to work, can't they just be patient?"

"That's not going to be easy."

Emily rolled her eyes. "They can just suck it up then. There are bigger things going on."

"Bigger than growing up?"

What? "Wait, back up."

"It's part of…oh, what is the word… kynþroska…"

It took a moment for the translation to settle in. "Puberty? I thought you and your sister were 25…"

"We are. She's kind of a late bloomer, most girls hit this point around 22, 24…"

"How old are you when you start puberty?"

"Girls? Fourteen to sixteen. Guys start and end a little younger."

"We usually start between ten and twelve and finish by seventeen."

"So young?" Andrew just blinked at that. "Are you usually ready for children at that age?"

"No, which is an entirely different discussion. How old are most of the colonists?"

"Um… seven are under twelve, fifteen are older than Kira and I…that makes twenty eight between sixteen and twenty-four, and twenty of those are female. How old is Spencer anyway?"

Emily's jaw dropped. "He's twenty-nine. Are you saying that most of these colonists are still in puberty? No wonder you're so concerned."

Andrew nodded. "And that's just with ritual. We have roughly one guy for every three girls in that age range; I don't know how we're going to make that math work. A couple of girls were asking me about your soldiers when I went around today. How to tell if they were single, that sort of thing."

"Oh we cannot go there. We need to go talk to Major Knox." Emily got up out of her chair; this had the potential to be a huge problem.

"How is he going to help?"

"He's going to order all his men to keep it in their pants is what, just to be on the safe side. I don't want confused signals creating an…an interstellar incident"

"Probably a good plan. But how is that going to help Kira?"

"I don't know." Emily sighed. "Once we get to the mountain we'll have some space to work it out, right now she has to continue to pretend to be Kitta's mother. We do not want the military to change its mind. Just tell her we'll find a way to fix this."

* * *

"Courtship rituals became important to us hundreds of years ago." Merina said as she stirred her tea. The briefing room was once again empty, and given that it was the only thing on the bottom level of the parlor car it was still a good place for a private meeting. It was Merina with Andrew as a translator, Reka, Emily, Morgan, Spencer and Dr. Jenkins. At Merina request the other researchers as well as the military was left out of this one. "It was a way to satisfy the need for relationships to be legitimized by the community at hand while still remaining secret from the community at large."

"Why differentiate?" Dr. Jenkins asked.

"The followers of the majority religion on our planet view women as a commodity, to be traded to secure alliances between families or for some kind of bridal price." Merina replied as Andrew translated. "As a result sexuality outside of marriage is strictly forbidden and to engage in relations outside of marriage delegitimizes a person completely. However our beliefs are diametrically opposed to the state religion, we refuse to participate in their rituals, and they do not recognize us or our rituals as legal and binding, so we cannot be legally married. In order to maintain our legitimacy in the greater community so that we may continue our reaching out to those in need we must maintain a public persona of having taken vows of celibacy."

"But you don't."

Merina laughed. "No, we do not. Our beliefs instruct us to savor life, enjoy it to the fullest, and sexuality is an important and very enjoyable part of life. But in order to maintain the impression our relationships are what you might call an open secret. Everyone who knows what to look for knows what's going on, but no one says anything."

"How does that usually play out?" Emily asked.

"Well, in the greater society when a young woman reaches that point in her development her father meets with other fathers in the community and between them they select a husband for her. A financial deal is usually made, consisting of the bride price; money paid by the young man to the father of the young woman in exchange for the right of dominion over her, the dowry which was paid by the father of the young woman to the young man to cover her costs in life, and the morning-gift, a smaller amount paid to the young woman directly by the young man in exchange for her virginity. Often that would be the only actual money a woman received in her lifetime."

"Wouldn't the bride-price and the dowry cancel each other out?" Spencer asked.

"In paper value, perhaps." Merina agreed. "But the bride-price was always in coin, to show that the young man could afford to start a family while the dowry could be in land or livestock or other investments. This negotiation could take a month or more, during which time the bridal-maidens, usually the young woman's friends, would carefully police her actions to make certain that she received no stimulation to cause her to continue her physical development. Regardless of what her hormones were telling her to do she was to keep herself pure, regardless of the amount of frustration it caused for her. One the negotiations were complete the two families would stand in front of the priest and exchange bride-price and dowry, and then they would go through the wedding ceremony. There would be a feast to celebrate and then the couple would go to the bedchamber where they would have intercourse, which the woman was not expected to enjoy. If the sheets were bloody the next morning the young man would present the young woman with her morning-gift in front of the town and that would be that."

"But you do things differently?" Dr. Jenkins asked.

"Very much so. As I said, we cannot do anything openly in order to maintain the public impression of chastity."

"Which is why you wanted this meeting private." Morgan said.

"Until we're sure what we're dealing with." Reka replied. "Can't be too careful."

"In our community when a young woman reaches that point in development and she's found a likely partner she'll start slowly separating him from the group. She'll come up with ways for them to spend more time together, first partnering up during group activities, be it working on part of a group project together, partnering up during training, dancing, trips to the nearby village market, that sort of thing and then, as time goes on, she'll ask him to join her in more one-on-one activities, picnics, rides in the mountains…"

"Dating." Morgan surmised.

"…during which time things will slowly grow more physical…"

"As they usually do." Emily understood.

"And the young woman's body will complete its sexual development in response."

"Sexual as opposed to reproductive." Dr. Jenkins checked her notes. "As I recall you said that those systems developed independently."

"Yes." Merina agreed. "Usually this stage is triggered by the reproductive system reaching maturity but they are independent systems. When she's ready and assuming he's been receptive all this time she'll ask him back to her room for the night. At that point we usually consider them a committed couple even though they will continue to live apart, perhaps for years. Eventually they'll decide to start a family, which is not easy for us, it takes deliberate action. Once the decision for that is made they will meet more often until she becomes pregnant, at which time they will quietly move into family housing. Women won't leave the Abbey grounds while pregnant or nursing, so we simply pretend that they are legitimately married and no one questions it."

"How is that an open secret?" Morgan asked.

"The young woman usually discusses her intentions with her peers, who then become her bridal-maidens, but unlike in the communities they encourage her development. They'll decorate her room for her, help her with her hair, encourage her to improve her diet, accompany her to the baths, many times make or buy little gifts for her to enjoy, a scented candle, beads for her hair, a new notebook, all little ways of showing the support of the community. Usually the young man's friend will do something similar, although young men don't seem to need encouragement as much as a reminder to be patient and wait for what's coming. And then after that first night their friends will leave breakfast outside her room, a way of saying that we all approve of the match and think they should stay in bed a little longer." Everyone had a chuckle at that.

"Are you planning to continue with those rituals moving forward?" Dr. Jenkins asked.

"Given that we don't know exactly what our new home will be like or what they feeling of the greater community are in this matter I honestly have no idea." Merina replied. "But I have twenty young women up there who are going to make us all sort it out, one way or the other."


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

**Amtrak Special #337**   
**Eastbound out of Great Lakes, IL**   
**Day #39**

**Spencer**

"Why didn't you want to stay?" Kira asked him.

They finally had some quiet privacy. In order to look like a family they were sharing a room, with Kitta in the bunk above, but tonight Uncle Andrew had tucked her into his top bunk so they could have that time alone. Now everything felt very right again, now that she was lying beside him precisely one inch away. But he had proposed getting his own room tonight. "Courtship," he admitted. "I want you to have the opportunity to go through the process if you want to."

"I don't know." She admitted. "It always has looked like such a lovely thing to do, you know, so much fun and having everyone encouraging you. But…"

"But?"

"But I feel like I already have you, we're already together. I don't want to give that up and go backward."

Spencer nodded. "I was kind of hoping you would say that. Does that mean we're…married?"

"We don't marry." She replied. "But it does mean we're acting as married, which is kind of the same thing, although we don't live together yet, which is common. Are you all right with that?"

"Very much so," he would have been all right with married. "If we're a couple how does this change?" Without a word she placed one hand on his chest, making his skin jump with the sudden sensation. Then she rolled into his arms. He fell backward, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He wasn't responding, he was still too afraid to tempt pain by responding, but she did feel very good against him. "I'm all right with this too." He said as he held her there. "It's not right that you didn't have a courtship though."

"That we didn't have a courtship. Or a wedding."

"I've never been big on weddings." He honestly never had, flashy, showy things filled with interpersonal land mines. "I'm all right with this. But you should have the ritual, if you want it. Or at least what makes it satisfying."

"What do you mean?" She looked up at him, confused

"Well, what parts matter? If you were from Earth I'd be asking if we needed to take vows, who needed to be there, did we really need a cake…"

"Oh." She settled back against his shoulder and thought. "Going off and having private time together, getting to know each other, talking about…everything…that always sounded like it would be wonderful. But we already did that."

"True." They'd had lots of time to get to know each other while trapped in neighboring cells. "But there's always more to talk about. How important is it that you take the lead in all this?" Kira thought about it a moment and shrugged. "Good, because in our society, the man usually takes the lead. Not that I'm claiming male privilege or anything but I still have a planet to show you."

"Somehow it doesn't feel that simple."

"Why not?"

She was quiet a long moment, before admitting. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of feeling like that again. It hurt so much the last time."

Oh. "You mean…in the yellow elevator?"

"Yes."

In the yellow elevator, when he'd kissed her, when he'd been compelled to kiss her. That had pushed her over the edge. The closest human analogue was epididymal hypertension, commonly known as blue balls. Except in Sisterian women it encompassed the entire lower abdomen and would last weeks, would include a generalized hypersensitivity of the nervous system, would be so painful that the government used it as a form of torture. They had worked her up to the very edge, because of that one moment; one touch from someone she cared for was enough to push her over. If he had been there he might have…well, no, but he might have been able to do something to help. Spencer had to sigh then. "I know how that feels." He admitted. "I'm too scared too. Earthlings just have a shorter response cycle with a narrower field of parameters. It takes more than just a date to set it off." He rubbed her shoulder lightly. "That won't happen again, I promise."

"You don't…"

"No." He gently cupped her head to get her to look at him. "That one I can promise." He really did mean that. "But I know that's not going to be enough, for either of us. We both need therapy."

She settled back on to his shoulder. "Merina is an expert, lots of experience. She said that once we're settled she'd work with both of us. She's even making the therapy rooms a priority. Granted Drifa is going to use them as well. The midwife," she said in response to the question on his face. "I'm still scared though."

"We can face anything together you know."

"I'm holding to that."

"What about the other part?"

"The other part?"

"Getting the community behind us."

"That's…confusing." Kira admitted. "We're acting like a married couple, complete with child, except we're not. Everyone around us is treating us like a married couple, even the ones who know it's not true. It's weird. They clearly support us but somehow I skipped the whole bride thing. And…I don't know how I feel about that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she turned and swiveled so she was sitting up, the easier to talk. "The whole idea behind courtship is that it's the last bit of growing up. Your body is ready to make children and so you're taking those last steps toward your own sexuality. And the community is supporting you in becoming this independent being; they're helping you get there. Except physically I feel like I'm already there and the community is treating me like an adult. And not just because of Kitta, in being a translator and a liaison, all this responsibility and…and work and I like it, it's good, but I also feel like I didn't get any of the fun. I missed the joyful parts."

Spencer just chuckled. "I know the feeling. I had to start caring for my Mom when my Dad left, when I was ten. All of a sudden I had to take on these adult responsibilities, and then I was sent to high school with people vastly older and then college and somewhere in there I went through puberty but because I was always with people older I kind of missed all of the experiences involved with it. Somehow I jumped that part and it's kind of great but at the same time it's kind of frustrating."

"Exactly! But…does it ever feel like you had to skip that part because you did something wrong?"

"Like because you were responsible and mature, you were living up to your potential or looking out for your brother, they punished you by taking the joyful parts away."

"Yeah. And you can't get away from it; you're reminded every time you look in the mirror."

"How?"

With that she pulled off her skaut, revealing silky, close cropped curls. "These things really work." She said with the kind of laugh that had nothing to do with humor.

"What do you mean?"

"A skaut covers your hair and keeps it down. The idea is that if you don't let anyone see your hair they won't be tempted to grab it and have a look at your nakken to see if you're ready or not. You're only supposed to tempt your husband like that."

"If someone grabs wouldn't you just fight back."

"Nice girls aren't supposed to fight men." Spencer rolled his eyes at that. Kira nodded. "I know. And it clearly works so well given that I was wearing one when I was captured…." Okay, he had to chuckle at that. "I have to keep it on because I know I'm a good girl, right, because I don't want someone to take a look, but every time it reminds me of how I should be ashamed because my hair doesn't peek out around it meaning I want to be able to show people easily, which is complete bullshit…"

"Because it has nothing to do with your actions and everything to do with the government's, which was wrong. Did you ever actually meet a prostitute?"

He watched that sink in a long moment, and then she slowly smiled, "Certified genius."

"Yes." He grinned at her. "If you could do anything you wanted, what would you do?"

"I'd…I'd do what Reka does." She tied her scarf around her neck like her Captain had been wearing it since they landed. "I asked her about it and she said she could take care of herself. I should be able to take positive control over my own body and not have to try to control someone else's emotions instead. If I wear it like this, though, it's like I'm saying it's entirely my choice. And I'd…I'd take on all the responsibilities of being an adult, just like I am, but I'd…I'd treat myself like a bride anyway, if the opportunity arose, just for the…the joy of doing it for a season."

"So why don't you?"

She gapped at him a moment. "What?"

"Why don't you? You're right; trying to control someone else's emotions is silly. I've seen your right hook; you would be much more successful in deploying that to avoid being groped. And I don't see any reason to hide your hair to protect your government"

"Well I…I would but…"

"But?"

"But I don't want anyone to see. I just…I don't have anything left."

"Yes you do."

"What?"

"I didn't want to say anything until we had a chance to be alone. We were in the freight elevator."

"So?"

"No cameras." No one else had seen that moment when she was pleading with him to please take the ache away. No one.

As he watched she turned that rosy pink shade that he knew so well. "Genius." He just nodded and smiled as she slipped back into his arms. "So what about you? What do Earthling boys do when they're about to grow up?"

"Ask girls to go somewhere and…play with them, which has a horrible yet accurate double meaning."

"So this is your growing up time too then?"

Spencer slowly smiled. Everyone else might think him a father now and a husband in practice if not in fact, but in reality he now had a girlfriend and he was dating. Not only that but she was a bona fide space alien, this was every nerdy sixteen year olds dream. "Yeah. And I think it's going to be wonderful."

 


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64**

**Amtrak Special #337**   
**Eastbound out of Great Lakes, IL**   
**Day #40**

**Spencer**

The next morning Spencer told Kira to sleep in. He'd gotten the best sleep he'd had in over a month, rocked by the motion of the train, with her body warm next to his, and he rather figured that she had as well, so she ought to catch up while she could. When the train stopped in the early morning hours for supplies he'd contacted Garcia from the station and asked her to do a bit of shopping for him. Then he went to the observation car and collected coffee with sugar before joining Miss Kitta, Uncle Andrew Emily and Morgan for breakfast. And then he proceeded to commit anthropological genocide.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Jenkins hissed at him. "You just altered their entire culture!"

But Merina started laughing as one after another all those girls took their scarves off their heads and tied them around their necks, insisting that they could defend themselves with their skills and their wits, thank you very much. "Brilliant, Dr. Reid. Simply brilliant. I've been waiting for someone to take that leap for years now and start them all off." As she and then Andrew moved their scarves to their necks all the guys just blinked and then followed suit.

A few moments later Reka walked in and looked over the dining car, at what were mostly her soldiers. "Finally," she muttered and went for tea.

Sometime later a hush fell over the car. Kira walked in, her scarf tied neatly around her neck, her short curls loose for everyone to see. For a long moment everyone was quiet. She poured herself a cup of coffee and stood there for a moment, stirring in some sugar. "Halberd," she said a moment later, in Sisterian. "Have you ever met a prostitute?"

The tinker, the oldest man in the group, stopped eating and blinked at her. "Beg pardon?"

"Have you ever actually met a prostitute?"

"Well, no…"

"Because I keep wondering why someone would chop off their hair to sell themselves, knowing that everyone would know what they were doing and ostracize them for it."

Halberd considered this for a moment and then started laughing. "Good way to isolate any survivors though, now isn't it."

A groan slowly arose from the group as they realized that they had been played. As Spencer watched Kira's body language relaxed and straightened into something just a little prouder, as she went from victim to survivor.

Spencer turned as Morgan started chuckling. "Nice." He said as he tipped his mug to the Doctor.

But before Spencer could taste his coffee Emily took a sip. "Yep, sugar. He's starting to feel better."

"Starting," Spencer pointed out. He still had a long way to go and he knew it.

"Got to start somewhere," Morgan said.

"I'll work on that more once we get where we're going." He watched Kira as she took her first sip of coffee, then turned and blinked at him as she smiled. And that was crappy train coffee. "Excuse me." He had to go share.

* * *

**Emily**

"Can I ask you a question?" Emily asked Andrew sometime later.

"Sure." He moved his notes over and let her share his table.

"I keep hearing jokes about a 'queen's throne'. What is that?"

Andrew stared at her for a moment as his ears slowly turned red. "Well….according to legend King Wulfgar was one of the greatest kings in all of history, he fought the southern tribes a number of times, performed all kinds of heroic deeds, we brought a book with his better known legends…." Sigh. "The Southern King attacked on the day he married Fair Queen Isolde, knowing that he truly loved her and would not leave her to suffer. But their love of their people was greater so he left orders to have a special throne built for her, with an, um, attachment in the seat so she….wouldn't have to suffer while he was gone."

"An attachment in the…" It took her a moment, but then she looked around for kids and dropped her voice. "You mean a chair with a dildo?" Andrew nodded. "She couldn't just…"

"Um, no. Women can't reach those nerves on their own." Now it was his turn to look confused. "Can women from Earth…?"

She'd wanted an opening like this for a while now. "Okay, when everyone gets settled we're going back to my room for a lesson in comparative biology."

He smiled. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He looked at her steadily. "You told me what profilers do. You tell me."

Emily leaned back. It wasn't just that, after everything that happened with Ian, hell because of Ian, she had kind of shut down that part of her life. Sex stopped being enjoyable then, if it had ever been. It had started as a way to gain acceptance and then right through the JTF, where she had agreed to take one for the team. And now… "I'm just curious." That was it, right? It had nothing to do with Andrew being a sweet guy, devoted to his sister, her sudden family and the people who now depended on him. It had nothing to do with the way he was carrying so much responsibility so easily on those broad shoulders. It had nothing to do with any of that.

"I think you deserve more than just having your curiosity settled."

"Such as?"

"Such as I know that Merina is planning on taking on two patients as soon as we settle in, she wouldn't have any problem with a third."

Wait a minute here. "I don't need therapy?"

He gave her this far too knowing look. "Sure about that?"

"Are you only saying that because you can only take referrals from her now?"

"I took an oath to not father children, at least not while I'm doing this work, not to not be with anyone."

"Then why would you want me for your patient?"

Someone called to him, but before he left he leaned over. "I didn't say I wanted you for a patient." He pointed out.

A moment later Morgan settled in his spot. "What was that all about?"

"I'm not sure." Emily admitted. "I don't know if I just got propositioned or referred or both."

Morgan chuckled. "When you figure it out I want details." He said. "Speaking of propositions and referrals, what do you know about Captain Reka Nabyen anyway?"

"I know she and Merina are together."

Morgan took a long pull on his coffee. "This is just not my train."


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 6
> 
> Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.  
> Tori Amos

**Chapter 65**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**Outside Thurmond, MD**   
**Day #41**

**Spencer**

It was a thirty minute drive from the nearest train station. For security sake they waited until dark to move everyone. If Spencer was concerned about anything it was that while the Village was 80 minutes outside of DC, and 30 minutes from the nearest train station, it was also 30 minutes from Ft. Detrick, home to the military's medical research center. But he would be in and out, as would the UN observers, and they were setting up a research facility on-site, staffed by civilians. With enough oversight they should be safe.

Hopefully.

By the time they arrived, through the now well-guarded perimeter, it was dark. But some buildings were well lit, outside as well as in. The Shakers had been known for sturdy, well-made buildings and furniture with simple lines that were both orderly and somehow elegant, and this place was no exception. As a result of all the meetings and discussions, the four dwellings, once dormitories strictly segregated by sex and relying on outdoor privies, had been quickly remodeled for residential use once again. Since this place had been in the process of turning into a living history museum each building had a bathroom, which made it simple to add more, giving every two small rooms a bath to share. In addition, one floor of each of three of the dwellings now had family apartments, each consisting of two or three small bedrooms, a bath, and a small common room. The fourth was designated guest quarters for visiting researchers, no family spaces but otherwise the same.

That fourth was nearest to what should have been the visitor's center, but was now the research center, with the café converted into a small cafeteria where Earth foods could be prepared. Over the course of quarantine and the train ride they had come to find out that Sisterians couldn't digest most processed foods, so those were restricted to the Research Center. The former Meeting House held the original kitchen, with wood-fired stoves and a large cold-cellar, now Hildi's domain and restricted to unprocessed foods only. The rest of the building was the former meeting hall, and was now a dining room and communal gathering space.

Around the compound there were a number of outbuildings, barns, a laundry, a mill, an infirmary, even a schoolhouse, but the old stone barn had been in the process of becoming a museum. It had since been turned into an internal office space and therapy center, which the entire community had agreed needed to be a priority. It was there that everyone went first, not the residences or the meeting hall as had been anticipated. They didn't wander. They just waited for Merina to pass judgment. Spencer acted as translator as the Army officer who was overseeing the construction pointed out specific design elements they had insisted upon. It didn't take long, after just a little while, mostly just one room, Merina came out. "It will do." She said to the assembled crowd.

In response they each slid their packs off their shoulders and they rooted down into them and pulled out what they had carried for so long. In twos and threes and fives books were collected and brought inside and carefully placed into a library designed to hold treasure. Roughly four hundred books, the science and history and mythology of a world millions of miles distant, were carefully unpacked and set onto the shelves where they formed the center of the new community.

They were home.

That done they all dispersed, laughing and chattering, to find their rooms and settle in before a late supper. Kira's own pack was five books lighter as she threaded through the crowd to find Spencer. "Are you staying with us or getting your own room?" She asked.

"With you, if you'll have me." He replied. "Um, at least that's what I planned for."

"Of course," Kira looked around. "Oh, now where's Kitta?"

As Kira went to find the little one, Emily and Morgan approached Spencer. "Are you guys staying tonight?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah, in the guest house and then I'm going home for more clothes tomorrow and coming back." Emily held up a sheaf of papers, "Temporary reassignment, two weeks. Are yours the same?"

Spencer shook his head, "A month. I'm staying in the West Residence with Kira and Kitta." He'd already talked to Hotch about it. After the month was up he'd be taking most Fridays off to allow for time to cover therapy, both of the mental kind and physical for his hand until he was fully cleared. "What about you?" He asked Morgan.

"Just tonight," the older man replied. "Everyone's coming out tomorrow to make sure nothing hinky is going on then Monday the rest of us are back to work. Someone's got to go catch the Unsubs while you two play with the spacemen." That brought a chuckle. "Speaking of hinky they're bringing out the satellite phones we used up in Alaska. If anything does go weird you two can call in the cavalry."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem." Spencer said. So far the government had been treating the Sisterians exceptionally well.

"Yeah but better safe," Emily pointed out. "Meet you at dinner."

"Yeah." Spencer headed off, catching up with Kira and Kitta just outside the West Residence. "So I, um, asked them to customize the apartment for us a little. I hope that's all right."

Kira shrugged. "I don't mind. What they already had here looked comfortable enough."

Spencer smiled as they headed up to the top floor. "For a monastic lifestyle, yes, but I admit it, I wanted some comforts. And they offered so I took them up on it. Here." West Residence, Apartment 34, this was it.

It was not what most people would call an apartment, because it didn't have a kitchen. But it did have three small bedrooms, a bath and a small sitting area. The sitting area was where Spencer had requested, and in a couple of instances paid for, certain changes. The Sisterians were quite comfortable with the simple reproduction Shaker furniture that had been intended for the living history museum, claiming it was very nearly what they had at home, and they preferred a communal kitchen for efficiency and community. Spencer had added a small loveseat, a comfortable wing chair with a reading lamp and footrest, a rocking chair with a footrest, a desk for him as well as one for Kira, and a small wet bar, just big enough for a coffee maker. The lamps he'd chosen all had reproduction shades in colored glass which cast a warm glow when he turned them on.

"So much," Kira murmured. "Even my father's home wasn't like this. And he was well off, with the war horses and all."

"I wanted you comfortable." He could leave her here now, go off and hunt Unsubs, do whatever it took, knowing her and her family were here, surrounded by their people, well guarded, safe and yes, comfortable. He could picture her here, down in the meeting hall or up here with Andrew and Kitta enjoying the other gift he had for her, and know that however crazy it became out there one place was perfect. Perhaps that it was in a way utterly alien, out of this world, made it right. "Your room is in there." He nodded to the one in the corner. "Why don't you take a look while I show Kitta her room?" The one to the far left.

Kitta's room was small, but with a cozy bed and a small nightstand and wardrobe it was enough for a little girl. "Where are you going to sleep?" Kitta asked. For all that they were supposed to share a room on the train Kitta had slept in the bunk above Uncle Andrew every night.

"In that room," he pointed to the one on the right, "for now. Are you going to be able to settle in yourself?

"I think so."

"Good. I'm going to go check on Kira." He left his go-bag by his bedroom door and knocked on her door frame before he let himself in. She had the biggest room, with a bed and space for two. "Do you like it?"

"It's lovely. Perfect." She was looking around with a very pleased smile. "But what are these?" She asked as she stepped over to the dresser with the mirror on top.

Spencer smiled. Garcia had come through. On that dresser was a small basket with little decorated clips and bobby pins in a mixture of styles. "A gift, hold still." He picked one out and slid it into her hair, holding back that curl that kept trying to get in her eyes. "Something like that."

She turned and looked and her grin just grew. "Oh, they're lovely! Thank you! Oh!" She took a deep breath and lifted one hand to her heart.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded. "It's kind of scary is all."

"Just breathe."

She nodded again. "Where are your things?"

"In the other room," he smiled a little at her confused look. "I'll move here when you invite me. It's private in here; no one needs to know our business." And he would accept sleeping alone, knowing she was so near.

She blinked at that, as her smile grew gentle. "Thank you." Then she stepped into his arms and slowly kissed him. It was the kind of kiss that wanted to curl into his belly and settle there, that would almost inevitable set off a reaction. And the moment it did he felt his breathing quicken as he started to panic. "Just breathe." She murmured from an inch away. "Just breathe."

He did, in and out, and the panic slowly faded along with the reaction. "When do we start therapy?" He had every reason to try now, and no reason at all to not.

"Day after tomorrow."

"Good."

 


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 65**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**Outside Thurmond, MD**   
**Day #43**

**Spencer**

The day after tomorrow came far too soon.

Over the centuries the various Abbots had insisted that the Abbey back on Litla Deirfiúr operate on a strict barter system, trading the products from their farm and their labor at nearby village fairs for what they couldn't make themselves. Any coin they received for treatments or medicines were strictly horded, placed in lock boxes never to be seen again. This was a big part of what kept them off the government radar. It also meant that when the colonists were sent out to cross the mountains they were literally given pounds of coins to carry as funding to start their new home.

Gold coins.

The US government didn't see them as gold first. They saw a priceless scientific resource, each coin was dated and stamped with some commemoration or other, providing an illustration of Sisterian history that would be hard to come by any other way. In addition trace minerals found in the coins could speak to the geologic make-up of the planet, the nature of its star and sister planet, eve its location in the galaxy. They wanted those coins to study. But the UN pointed out that the Sisterians consider that  _currency_ , funding to start their new home, and as such it should not be confiscated but rather traded for, or more specifically, traded for the local currency. In other words, the US had to buy it from the Sisterians at the going rate. By the time they were done, with some prudent, conservative investing and given that the US had traded the land for the two flyers, the Sisterian colony was self-sustaining, at least for its day-to-day needs.

That was the  _easy_  part.

The problem was that the simplest item in a Sisterian pack was of enormous research value. But the Sisterians needed those things, or something like them, to live. And the UN was insisting that each and every object be traded for a like object of quality and use or they be given fair replacement value. For all of it. Everything. Right down to the toothbrushes. Spencer looked up from the computer and stretched. He had not realized just how crappy most toothbrushes were, or how much it would cost to replace the Sisterian ones with a similar Earth model. He caught Merina's eye as she came in and managed a smile. "Are you all right?" She asked.

"I just ordered a gross of toothbrushes from the other side of the planet." He replied. "I never thought I'd do that in my life."

Merina smiled in return. "We're all very grateful."

"Anything I can do to help." He had dreamed of something like this when he was young, of bridging the gap between their world and an alien culture. He had not dreamed that it would involve toothbrushes.

"Would you like to take a break and join me upstairs for some tea?"

Spencer froze. Upstairs was the therapy room, which meant that she did not mean just tea. I have to try, he thought as he remembered the feel of Kira lips. I have to try. "All right."

The therapy room was the only room in the complex that had lost its Shaker aesthetic. At their request the walls were painted a warm color, simple, rustic rugs covered the honey pine floor, and the furniture had been chosen for comfort. The room was somewhat divided into three sections, to the left, the part that was visible when you entered the room, there were the two wing chairs he had chosen, facing each other across a small coffee table. Directly ahead was a large woodstove, unlit at the moment. And around the corner on the right was an almost separate room for hydrotherapy, tiled in multicolored slate and featuring a large shower area and the small soaking tub they said was essential. A small, round Japanese ofuro had fit the bill nicely. But it was what was immediately to his right, hidden from the doorway behind a screen, which concerned him. They had settled on a physical therapy platform as the best analog to the treatment tables they had used back home, tables that were also used by the surrogates.

He was not ready for that. Not yet.

Thankfully Merina didn't lead him that way. Instead she led him over to the chairs by the window, where tea was waiting, one of the blends Garcia had once brought to Rossi's by the smell, and where she had a notebook waiting for use. Apparently at least today therapy meant talking. Not that he was all that ready for that either, but at least he thought he could work himself up to talking about what happened.

"Please." She smiled gently as they both settled. "You're an interesting man, Dr. Reid. A man with the soul of a Healer and the heart of a Guardian. That's rather rare, you know."

"Thank you, I think."

"What that tells me is that I should start by reassuring you."

"About."

"Telling me what happened. A Healer would notice every detail, have insights we've never explored before. But a Guardian would not want to share, out of a desire to protect the listener."

Spencer nodded. That was a spot-on description of the conflict he was facing. He didn't want to hurt anyone, especially the team, with the knowledge of what had happened. "How do you suggest resolving it?"

"By reminding you that what happened to you was not unique. That they have an entire infrastructure in place, which means that many people have gone through that system. And by telling you that you are my…45th male patient, which means I have heard the details of that system many times before. Now I am not saying you won't surprise me…."

Spencer smiled. "Dave Rossi, he was here yesterday, has been doing the work we do for a good twenty years now. Even when he is surprised it doesn't seem to do him any harm."

Merina nodded. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

**Emily**

Emily stuck her head in the door of the room that had become a gathering spot for everyone working on resettlement. She'd thought he was working on pack stuff but his seat was empty. "Where's Reid?"

Andrew was sitting at another table talking with two researchers. He stretched a little as he leaned back to look at her. "I think he's upstairs with Merina."

"Ah. Thanks." Emily turned to head up there.

A moment later Andrew caught her around the wrist. "Not now." He said gently.

"I just have a question."

"It can wait."

"It'll only take a moment."

"I don't think they want to be interrupted." Somehow he had smoothly moved between her and the stairs.

Wait a minute here. "What's going on?"

Andrew took a deep breath. "You know, I'm really just a student, but we do call her Doctor for a reason…"

Oh hell. Emily moved to get around him. "What are they doing up there."

"Just talking." Andrew got an arm around her waist. Suddenly she was reminded of how big he was. "And even if they weren't it's really his business."

"Talking." Emily stepped back, too aware of his size and how solid he was, and none of it in a threatening way. In fact just the opposite here. Talking. All of a sudden the light bulb went on and she switched to Sisterian. "You mean therapy." Which was something they had all been quietly hoping that Reid would get out of this. At least she could give a positive report on that.

"Yeah. She already spent time with Kira who is now walking the fences to get some quiet time. And tonight my sister is actually starting medical treatment, finally." Andrew smiled a little. "She still has time open this afternoon, you know."

Emily groaned. "I don't need therapy. I'm fine. What makes you think I need therapy anyway?"

"Oh, some of the things you said on the trail. After we opened the jug of meleia." He shrugged. "Not all men are like that you know."

Jesus, what had she told him? "Well, regardless of how they are I don't have a problem with sex."

"Granted. But do you really enjoy it?" Emily opened her mouth to answer but stopped. That question was so loaded it was impossible to answer. Andrew smiled and neatly stepped around her. "Think about it."

 


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**Outside Thurmond, MD**   
**Day #43**

**Spencer**

That night after supper he was summoned back to the therapy room. It was dimmer now, with darkness behind the windows, and warmer, both with the light and the fire merrily leaping behind the glass door of the stove. Almost too warm, he left his sweater hanging by the door before accepting a mug of herbal tea from Mina. "I just need a few more moments here." She said, before disappearing to the wet end of the room.

He found Kira sitting on the edge of the therapy platform, watching the fire with blank eyes. "You didn't need to come up for this." She said.

"Yes I did." He said as he sat on the floor beside her knee, so he would look up into her eyes. "So is this supposed to be painful or…?"

"No. Not tonight at least." She took a deep breath. "It's just…wrong…and scary."

"Why is it wrong?"

She was quiet a moment. "I never thought I'd be a patient." She admitted at last. "Up to now I could pretend it was just…talking. I'm not broken, you know."

He almost chuckled. "I don't think you're broken. At least not anymore than I am."

She finally looked at him. "You are  _not_  broken!" She insisted.

Now he did chuckle. "How come we have an easier time saying that about each other?" He knew she didn't have an answer either. "Why scary?"

She took a deep breath. "Right now I can't get hurt again. If I get this fixed…"

"You can."

She nodded. "I just…I keep remembering how cold that smooth stone was."

"The concrete." Every time, he thought, every time they hurt her she was on a concrete floor.

"Yeah. I don't want to feel that cold again. If I do this I'll be able to."

Spencer shook his head and took her hand. "Not on my planet." He promised.

"You can't promise that."

"I can try."

The sound of running water shut off. "All right," Mina said, coming around the corner. "You know what to do. I'll be back in about 40 minutes to help you out." With that she left the room.

Kira's hand tightened on his a moment before she slid to her feet. "I need to wash up first." She told him.

"I'll wait."

Now it was her turn to chuckle. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked." She pointed out. "And…I think I'd like the company."

Right then. He followed her around the corner, where he sat on the stool that waited there while she started to strip. "I'm still not entirely certain what's wrong." He said.

"This." She replied as she pulled her shirt over her head.

He turned just enough to look. The thin membranes on her back had been the focus of the last round of torture, and they had healed. But they had healed with a thick crust of dead skin over them, white and dry, a startling contrast to the membranes higher on her neck which were a warm, living softness just darker than her skin. He reached up to touch, fascinated, but stopped himself. "May…may I…?"

"Go ahead. I can't feel anything there anyway."

It was dry, and rough with an almost papery texture. "And this treatment is supposed to heal this?"

"Yes."

Now he was seriously curious. But he was also curious about the tattoo on her back. "You know you can barely see mine." He said as he ran a finger over the blackened scar. "I left the ink behind."

"Lucky." She murmured.

"I've considered getting it put back."

"Why?"

"To not forget," he turned away again to let her finish. A moment later he heard the shower come on. "You said it doesn't hurt this time?"

"When the time comes to actually scrub it off it's supposed to burn like anything." She admitted. "Okay, there is one nice thing about short hair. Easier to wash."

"Wash?" As in take a shower wash?

"You'll see." It didn't take her long. After a few minutes the shower shut off and he heard her moving and then settling in to the tub. "You can turn around now."

He turned to look. The tub was not just filled with water as he had assumed. Enough herbs and oils had been added to it to turn it the color of strong tea. And when he got close enough, the pungent scent made his eyes water. "You would think that drinking tea would be enough."

"Of course not. Speaking of…" She picked up her own mug. "Would you like that back?" She asked, indicating the necklace on the top of her pile of clothes.

Spencer picked up the necklace, running his thumb over the five year coin set in some kind of metal. "Um…"

Kira smiled. "I kept it because it was the only thing I have of you. But now I have you, and your people, and your planet so it is kind of superfluous."

"And I don't feel bad because…um, I'll show you after." For now he tucked the familiar coin back into his pocket.

"I did wonder, though, what the glyphs on it mean."

He pulled the stool over and settled on the tub. "Remember when I told you about Tobias Hankel?"

They talked about NA and Hankel and other things, losing track of the time, until Mina tapped and then came back in. "All right, let's get you out and rinsed off." She said sounding and acting as politely efficient as every nurse Spencer had ever known.

"Do you need help?" Spencer asked, even as he politely turned his back.

"No, I don't think…whoa." Spencer turned back to see Kira half out of the tub, clinging to Mina with one hand and holding onto a bar next to the tub with the other.

"It's normal to be a little light headed." Mina said. "No, no Dr. Reid, don't touch. We don't want you breaking out in hives. I'm just glad it's not Andrew in here." She said as she eased Kira over the side and back to the shower area. "All that immigrant blood and the size that goes with it. Right, now we rinse off…" Spencer had politely turned again. Even when he'd gone to help he hadn't looked, he realized, he'd been focused on her face. It only took a moment before the water shut off. "There we go. Now dry off and then over to the table and lie down."

Spencer took the hint and went ahead, settling back down on the floor by the head of the platform. A few moments later and Kira was there, lying on her stomach, a towel neatly draped around everything important. "You okay?" He asked quietly. Her nod and smile was reassuring.

While he watched Mina took some of that green liquid that he'd tried before and mixed it with some oil for a carrier. "This is going to feel a bit cold." She warned Kira before starting to rub it into her back. Kira made some small sound of displeasure and wrinkled her nose at the sensation. "I told you." It didn't take long before the oil had turned her entire back a bright emerald green. "There. Now stay there while it dries, I'll be back in about thirty minutes."

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked as soon as the door closed.

"Yes, it's just cold." Kira replied.

Well that explained the fire in the room. They stayed there, talking of nothing important, while the emerald green oil dried to a sticky film on her back. At the appropriate time Mina bustled back in and gently tapped the sticky coating in a few places. "Very good. All right." She stepped to a side table and unfolded a clean, lint-free cloth, large enough to cover Kira's back. As soon as she laid it down it tacked to the green oil and stayed there. "Now let me help you get dressed."

Spencer politely turned away until he sensed Kira sitting on the edge of the platform and putting her shoes on. "So how often do you have to do this?"

"Every night for the next moon," she replied with a sigh.

Moon, which meant month. "And you have to keep it covered the entire time?" She nodded. "That explains a lot." The bandage would be a constant reminder.

"You don't have to come up here every time." She told him.

"I want to." He replied. At her questioning look he shrugged. "You shouldn't have to do it alone. And it is a nice quiet time." As much as he enjoyed the camaraderie in the dining hall after supper he'd never been much for large gatherings. Being able to sit quietly and just talk was restful.

She smiled. "I certainly wouldn't mind the company."

He dug into his pocket for a small, satin pouch. "Speaking of that necklace I've been trying to find the right time to give you this." He pulled a charm on a chain out of the pouch.

She gasped at the sight. "Big Sister!"

"Actually Saturn, a planet in our solar system, but from the description the two are similar." He carefully fastened the charm that mimicked the planet that hung in the sky above her home around her neck. "I'm not trying to replace that other one, but…"

She stopped him with a gentle finger to his lips. "That was a reminder of something I would never have again. As is this. But I'd rather have this and you. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She was ready so he went to get his sweater. "Here," he said, holding it up so she could slide her arms in. "It's called a cardigan. It wasn't developed until after your ancestors went through the wormhole."

She let him slide it over her arms and up her shoulders. The sleeves were only a little too long. "It's really nice." She said, "But why?"

"Too keep your back warm."


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**outside Thurmond, MD**   
**Day #46**

**Spencer**

"Hey guys." JJ called as she walked in from the parking area.

"Hey." Spencer turned from the fence where they were all watching a truck attempt to back its way into the area by the barn. "You're just in time for the excitement. The first horses are being delivered."

"Horses?" JJ stopped and blinked at them. "We're giving them horses?"

"Uh, no, actually. When they were asking about acquiring horses to use for farming one of the researchers pointed them to a place in the state that has draft horses for adoption. They didn't have enough horses available capable of doing farm work but they knew of a few other places and that led to a few others. Now they've adopted horses from around the country, and I do mean adopted, they had currency budgeted for acquiring horses when they settled down. All the government has done is helped with transport, they had them delivered to Ft. Detrick, and the Army has brought them the rest of the way to preserve security. Eventually they plan on a herd of a dozen and they've talked about breeding for profit."

"Wow. And they're familiar with Earth horses?"

"No. We've arranged for some students doing graduate work in the Equine Studies program at the University of Maryland to come help them out. They're both veterans with security clearances. The closest animals to what they considered work horses are actually our llamas but theirs are considerably larger, capable of pulling heavy wagons. What we have are similar to what they called war horses, which were of similar shape and size to our draft horses, except war horses are carnivores."

"Carnivores?"

By now they had caught up to the fence. "Yeah," Emily said, "With lots of sharp teeth. They had to keep them muzzled on the trail or else they would bite at things. They were known for their nasty tempers."

"Jax was sweet." Kira insisted.

"Only for you," Andrew pointed out.

"He would eat mice from my hand."

Emily shuddered. "I don't even want to picture that."

Spencer slipped up behind Kira as the trailer finally got into place. "I found this one for you." He said to her, quietly.

She turned to him, her eyes wide, a small smile on her face. "Really? I didn't think we were getting riders this time."

Spencer shrugged. "He just seemed like he needed to be yours."

JJ had overheard the conversation. "What's so special about him?"

"He's supposed to be a spirited stallion, he wants an experienced handler. But it was his breeding that made me think of it."

"What is he?" Emily asked.

"He's a cross between a shire and an Ardennais. He's kind of big, but then every description I've heard of Jax says that he was large as well."

"Define big." JJ said.

"Nineteen hands and 2,600 pounds."

JJ blinked at him. "That's not a horse, that's a tank with legs."

But Kira was just giving him this giddy grin. She threw her arms around Spencer's neck, kissed him quick and hard, and then climbed over the fence with Andrew to go help with the unloading.

"I never asked." Emily said. "Do you know how to ride?"

Spencer nodded. "My Aunt Eunice owned a dude ranch outside Vegas; I used to ride mustangs whenever we went to visit. I do much better with herbivores."

"I didn't know you had an Aunt." JJ said.

"She passed away when I was seventeen. Cancer. That's why I had to put Mom in Bennington; there was no one else to take care of her. The sale of the ranch is still covering Mom's bills."

"Ouch." Emily said. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

"Have you considered getting a horse for up here?" JJ asked.

"Actually there's a horse I adopted in that trailer." Spencer grinned as they chuckled. "Nothing fancy, just a gelding with some trail experience."

"So this means you're going to teach Henry how to ride."

"Of course, as soon as you think he's old enough."

As they watched the first horse came out. As predicted he was a monster, a good six foot at the shoulder from the Shire in his blood, wide and packed with muscle from the Ardennais. He was what Aunt Eunice would have called a paint, with large blotches of black and white. And he was not happy, either about all the fuss or about the ride or just in general. But there was a descendent of the Vikings on the other end of his rope and she was not about to let him win the argument.

While they were discussing matters two Percherons, solid work horses with gentle dispositions, were led off the trailer, followed by a lightly dappled grey horse who quietly followed his handler. "Excuse me." Spencer said as he went over the fence to greet the horse some distance away from Kira and the beast. As promised the horse in question, while tall enough for a long-legged rider, was calm and gentle, although he quickly picked up on the sugar Spencer had in his pocket. He couldn't help but smile, he hadn't ridden in so long, not since his Cal-Tech days when he could go visit Aunt Eunice on week-ends. He hadn't realized how much he missed it. "You need a name." He said quietly. "What do you want your name to be, huh? Tristian? Yeah, I think Tristan will do."

Later, after an exhausting, rewarding afternoon working with Tristan Spencer finally had a chance to talk to Kira again in the barn. "So, does he have a name yet?" She asked him.

"Tristan. Definitely not what you would call an alpha horse. But then I'm not exactly an alpha rider so it's a good match. What are you calling him?" Spencer eyed the giant head peering over the stall gate.

"Birger. It means 'protector'. What?" She asked as he nearly fell down laughing.

* * *

**Day #48**

Spencer stepped out of the dining hall and right into a tornado. Not the weather kind, but the kind generated by a little girl who did not want to do what she was being asked to do.

Up until today the children in the group had been assisting the adults with settling in as much as possible. But yesterday they had finally finished turning the small schoolhouse into a useable space and so now classes were starting up again; if mostly in Sisterian topics until they could figure out how to teach children English based topics when only five adults on the planet knew both languages and those five had other jobs. As it was he was stuck with an hour a day of language skills, being the only one so far who had figured out how to read and write in both languages. Thankfully there were only seven children to work with; he thought he could handle that.

Well, six. One simply did not want to go. "All of the other children are going." Kira tried to explain, but the wails just grew louder. "Fine," she said at last. "Don't go. But none of us have any time any longer to spend dealing with you." And with that she turned on her heel and walked away.

Deprived of her big sister's attention Kitta stopped screaming. She wiped her eyes off on her sleeve and looked up at Spencer. "What shall we do today?" She asked hopefully.

"I have a meeting with Major Knox this morning about academic credentials, and then I'm teaching at the school for ninety minutes. After lunch I'm meeting the OCR team for a few hours for translation work and then I have a meeting with Dr. Kaerleikar and then I plan to do some long line work with Tristan before supper. After supper Kira and I have some private time again."

"No time to play?"

"Not today, sorry."

Kitta huffed and ran off to find other playmates.

About thirty minutes later she burst in to his meeting with the Major. "There's no one to play with!" She said. "Kira is busy and Andrew is busy and Hildi is busy and Halberd is busy too. Everyone is busy!"

"Yes, they are."

"Can I color then?"

Introducing her to color crayons had been a good way to occupy their little shadow while they were getting everything underway. She loved them. "No, all of the supplies are over at the school."

"They're coloring there?"

"Yes, and playing games and reading stories and learning things with numbers too."

Kitta blinked at him. "I'll go to school." She announced.

Spencer smiled just a little. "Go tell Kira, she'll take you over there."

Later, when Spencer got to the school for his stint at teaching he found Kitta sitting at a back desk with the two other children her age, learning to read in Sisterian and thoroughly enjoying herself.


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 69**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**outside Thurmond, MD**   
**Day #51**

**Spencer**

"You gave her a weapon?!" Major Knox exclaimed.

Given that he could see the vein popping on the Major's forehead Spencer decided to keep his smile to himself. "Your perimeter guards are armed with carbines and have access to helicopters I doubt they need to worry about one woman on horseback with a bow and arrows. It's a traditional gift so yes, I came through."

"And how do you know she's not going to start taking out my men?"

"Major Knox if there's one thing I know its people who kill and Kira isn't the type. I can say that with absolute certainty."

The argument ran for several more minutes but in the end it didn't get anywhere. When the Major ran out of steam Spencer left the office and headed for the paddocks, maneuvering around the ongoing construction. He'd wanted to have Kira's bow returned to her, arguing that it was a family heirloom which deserved to be in the family's possession. But it was too beautiful a specimen, not only a unique wood, but the carvings were of the flora and fauna of their planet, people would be studying it for decades. If it ever left the research lab it was going straight to the Smithsonian, and nowhere else.

Since Spencer knew nothing about archery or carving he couldn't make her a replacement, and he didn't even want to try. But when he'd gone to the shop to at least replace her weapon, to find a modern bow that would closely replicate the balance and draw weight of her old one, he'd spotted a number on display as works of art. A few questions lead to some advice and to an artisan out of Virginia who was more than willing to take custom orders. The end result was a unique bow, not carved but one that he had painted in bright colors with gilded highlights and a tooled and gilded leather quiver, both in a curling Viking horse design. Kira had been so thrilled she'd actually broken out in tears. "Now I feel like I can be a Guardian again."

"A friend of mine always said that you don't need a weapon to stop someone." Spencer replied. "You need a good profile. That is, you need a thorough knowledge of your enemy and the situation around you."

"I agree. But I said feel, there is something very…oh…empowering about knowing you can, even if you never need to or choose to."

Now he stopped at the fence and watched as she put Birger through his paces, her new bow and quiver on her back so they could both get used to them. She was in what had become the de facto Guardian uniform around here, black jodhpurs, riding boots, a long sleeved black shirt and a red kerchief tucked around her neck. After she'd borrowed his old leather riding hat one too many times he'd asked Garcia to find her one and she wore a vest she'd brought from home to protect her still-bandaged back, one she was keeping until a new one could be made for her. Someone somewhere along the line had decided to make the military's life easy and put rank insignia on the appropriate collars so the men would know who they were dealing with but in her case Spencer didn't think the Lieutenant's bars needed. The confidence and skill she was showing in the way she worked with Birger was more than enough. He just stood there, watching the most beautiful thing on the planet move around the enclosure.

"Her skill is impressive." Merina said as she joined him at the fence. "When she first came to us she intended to study for a nurse, as her upbringing had taught her that that was a proper role for a female. We quickly realized she has the intelligence for a doctor, but she always wanted to be out with the horses. It would have been cruel to keep her in. And a loss as well, she has a gift for working with our horses that seems to have carried over to these."

"She could try for a vet." Spencer replied. At Merina's confused look he explained, "A doctor for horses."

"They have such a thing?" She asked. He nodded. "Be sure to mention it to her."

"I will." It would take her years, of course. She was intelligent, he knew that, and loved to learn but she had to start with reading and writing in English and then she had much catching up to do. But she was only 25, in another ten years who knew.

"Shall we go upstairs?"

* * *

"Could you expand upon that?" She asked him

Spencer was sitting in the big wing chair in the therapy room, his legs folded under him, long fingers cradling a hot mug of tea. "It didn't read as sexual for me." He admitted quietly, "Maybe because I don't associate my sexuality with the male gender. Or maybe because this profiled as a sadistic rape scenario."

"Sadistic rape? I'm unfamiliar with the term."

"For sadistic rapists, they have a sexual association with anger and power so that aggression and the infliction of pain itself is eroticized. For this rapist, sexual excitement is associated with the inflicting of pain upon their victim. The offender finds the intentional maltreatment of their victim intensely gratifying and takes pleasure in the victim's torment, anguish, distress, helplessness, and suffering; he or she finds the victim's struggling with him or her to be an erotic experience. What happened was a near textbook example of a sadistic rape, including prolonged captivity, the use of foreign objects, the infliction of pain and even the blinding of their victims."

"The victims?" He nodded. Merina looked at him gently. "Don't distance this. It's important to acknowledge what happened."

That was one of the harder parts of this. It was so much easier to think about it in abstract terms, Unsub, Victim, system, theory. It had made it easier to accept then, easier to survive. But now was the time and the safe place to revisit that, to make it real and so to get through. "For sadistic rapists, they have a sexual association with anger and power so that aggression and the infliction of pain itself is eroticized. For this rapist, sexual excitement was associated with the inflicting of pain upon…us. The offender found the intentional maltreatment of …us intensely gratifying and took pleasure in…our torment, anguish, distress, helplessness, and suffering; they found…our struggling with them to be an erotic experience. What happened was a near textbook example of a sadistic rape, including prolonged captivity, the use of foreign objects, the infliction of pain and even the blinding of…us…me." It was hard to even admit it but…it was real. It had happened. "It didn't read as sexual." He insisted. "My sexuality does not go there."

"Then where does it go?"

"Excuse me?"

"If it doesn't go there then where does it go?"

"Women," that part was easy enough; and, "Not-sadistic."

She clucked her tongue, "Imprecise definition, describing something by what it is not."

Good point. "Um….then I…." He was groping for something here, but he had no clue what.

"Let me try from a different direction. Earlier you said this all felt inevitable, like it was going to happen eventually, your words. Why? Most men do not assume that their first experience will be at the hands of a…sadistic rapist."

Interesting question. "Um…a lot of the experiences I had back in high school…I mean none of that went as far as actual penetrative rape but thinking back most of the perpetrators were in it for the sadistic pleasure…we get a lot of that at work as well…I…I told you about Charles Hankel, I think some of that underlined his behavior…where are we going with this?"

"You said that you've always believed yourself to be asexual, in that you never felt any real need for sexual release. Yet you've also said, and clearly shown, yourself to be attracted to women. Those two do not correlate."

"No, they don't." He had reacted in the past. OK, not on his date with JJ, that was the first thing that threw him; that his feelings for her were more like a sister. But there was Lila, there had been something there, and Austen, although neither of those ever went anywhere. But in both cases he had been conflicted, had ended up leaning on the Bureau policy of no involvement with witnesses to stay away. And now there was Kira. "Then why would I convince myself of that?"

"Some aspects of our sexuality are innate, but some are built upon our experiences of the world, are they not?"

Spencer was nodding. "And all of my experiences have included some form or another of sadism." Hell, even Lila and Austin had Unsubs after them, the case files were right in his mind when he was around them. "I shut down my sexuality to avoid it. How did I not see that before?"

"Because that was your normal, wasn't it?" Merina stood up and gestured for his mug, taking it from him.

"Yes." He replied as she stepped to the small counter. "But why did it suddenly become abnormal after?"

"You tell me. Don't think."

"Kira," he replied right off the top of his head. "She kept insisting that what was happening was wrong and that it could be fixed. She was so sure that there was something better. That wasn't enough to solve the problem though."

"But it was enough to make you aware of it, which is the first step."

"What's the next?"

Her eyebrow went up. "We still have quite a lot to talk about, don't we?"

He smiled, "I know. But now I'm curious."

She nodded to his cup. "What does that taste like?"

Huh? "Herbal tea."

"I didn't ask you what it was; I asked you what it tasted like. Sit back, get comfortable. Now I want you to breathe with me…" She led him through a sort of guided meditation, quite calming, and yet she gently nudged him to become very aware of his senses somehow, the feel of the rough fabric of the chair under his forearms, the heat seeping through the cup into his hands, the faint smell of wood smoke in the room, the sound of children laughing as they were let out of school, the light filtering through the warm colors of the leaves outside. "Now, your tea, tell me what you taste."

"Honey," he told her as rich sweetness coated his throat. "Mint. Anise. Pine. Some kind of soft flowers. I can smell the lavender. How come I didn't notice any of that before?

Merina just smiled. "For homework go through those steps I just gave you at different times of day, in different places and with different people. Try at least once with Tristan. You'll find your answer."

 


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter 70**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**outside Thurmond, MD**   
**Day #51**

**Emily**

Emily didn't think she had ever been this frustrated in her life.

Andrew was simply the most maddening man she had ever met. No matter what she tried to do he simply would not reciprocate. Hell, he was worse at flirting than Reid. Except that every so often Andrew would say something, usually something direct, and then he'd give her that knowing smile like she just had to try harder or something. She'd always intended to give him a go, once she knew that Reid was safe and getting help. She'd thought that after all that time on the road he felt the same. But he was just so frustrating!

Or maybe she was just feeling it more tonight because someone had decided to see what the group would do when faced with beer.

They drank it, of course, as did she. But they all seemed to have some kind of wicked tolerance. Or maybe it was that she was on her third when the dancing broke out. Tables were pushed back, Halberd pulled out that weird fiddle-thing and the next thing you know the place was rocking. Okay, maybe shuffling, but it was fun until you got too warm and someone was dragging you outside. "What, I was having fun!"

"You're all red." Andrew said. "You need to cool down."

"I'm fine. I'm fine." She insisted. Then the world decided to spin a bit. "Okay, maybe I'm a little lit. But I'm okay."

"Good to know."

She looked at him a long moment. "Jesus. You have been matching me beer for beer and you're not even warm are you."

He lifted the bottle. "It's good ale. Mild though. Very mild."

You know, fuck it. "What's it going to take Andrew?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I figured once you knew your sister was safe you'd get the hint." A thought came to her. "You do know she's safe, right?"

As if on cue there was one of those silent pauses in the hall behind them, and then a silvery soprano of a voice sang. The lyrics were indistinct from out here, but there was longing in it, desire and love. Emily stood, rooted to the spot, haunted by the sound. When she turned to Andrew to ask what and who, he was smiling. "Yeah, I guess she's fine. She finally got her voice back." He took a long pull on his beer. "What were you saying?"

In reply Emily leaned in and kissed him.

At first she thought she'd gone too far, done something horrifically rude, he was just so unresponsive. He put his arms around and gently pulled her back, but didn't push her away. "Emily." He said quietly. "I can't make a commitment."

Was that what he was worried about? "I'm not looking for a commitment." A friend, a good friend, preferably one with benefits, was what she wanted right now. Andrew was a very good friend and yes, she was curious. She wanted more.

She tried again and this time he responded, his lips pliant against hers, and when she opened he took the invitation and tasted in a way that set her head to spinning. This time he pulled her in close and she realized just how big and how very solid and warm he was, so very warm and alive against her. He set her wondering what it would be like having that mountain towering over her, such strength and yet she knew he'd be very controlled and very careful until he couldn't any longer. This time when he pulled her back it was mere inches. "Emily." He said, so very quietly.

"Please." She murmured against his lips. It had never felt like this, not with Ian or before Ian or even back in Rome. Then it had been to fit in, in school, in college, even in her job. She'd even gotten her position with the BAU because Strauss thought she'd be so willing to make it that she'd go after Hotch. It had always been about fitting in, never like this. Never heat and solid and so gentle but someone she knew would literally follow her into hell. She'd never felt this curling need in her belly before. "Please." She begged before she kissed him once more.

In reply he placed his beer down on the picnic table, then took hers and neatly placed it there as well. Then he tucked his hand under her ass and neatly scooped her up into his arms and headed for his room.

And that was the best feeling of all.

* * *

"You're not looking for a commitment." Andrew said.

It was later, much later. He had climbed out of bed to add wood to the fire in the tiny stove that warmed the room. Emily watched from the pillow as the light played over his skin, highlighting every curve of muscle. Having all that solid body mantling over you was an amazing sensation, you felt so safe, so able to just let go. And let go she had, he had lived up to every bit of his reputation and more. "I'm married to my work." She admitted. "It has to be my priority."

"Ah. As am I." He came back to bed, pulling her into his arms, the only way they would both fit in a far too narrow space. "But I don't think it means the same thing when I say it."

"What do you mean?" She asked his sternum.

He rolled over, pulling her over top of him. Much better. "We haven't said anything to the researchers but we looked at what we have here. A number of us grew up in communities where people bred livestock; we know how many males to females you need to insure the survival of a population."

"And you don't have the numbers." Oh, that was not fair. These were a remarkable people, they shouldn't die out here.

"No, we do. But only if we take monogamy out of the equation."

"Ahhh. That's what you meant when you said you can't commit."

He nodded. "Granted there are going to be a few exceptions but most of the people here are all right with it. The problem was with the families who came with us, they came together expecting monogamy, and now…"

"Now they need to help out too."

He nodded. "And that's going to be my job."

"Why you?"

"If I do it it's…medicinal somehow. I took my oath to the Missionaries, which means I know I'll never be a father. Their partners will raise the children as their own, they've already agreed."

Emily just looked at him. He seemed so calm, so accepting of all of this. "And you don't mind not being a father?"

"No." Andrew smiled as he gently toyed with her hair. "The work was more important. And this…this is immeasurably so. We have no way of knowing what is happening back home, for all I know I'm keeping our species alive. That is so much more valuable. Besides, assuming all goes well and Kira has at least one pregnancy I'll be an Uncle twelve times over, I won't lack for children in my life."

"At least one? Won't she have to have a few?"

He shook his head. "We didn't figure her into the calculations. She's been through too much to ask her to be with anyone other than who she's chosen. The same can be said for Reka. And Merina and Hildi are too old now."

"I'm selfishly glad. I'm sure Spencer would understand but I know it would hurt him."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you want children?"

She scoffed. "I'm not exactly the maternal type. Besides…" She rolled a little to show the thick surgical scar on her belly. "Ian took care of that for me. I can't anymore."

His eyes clouded in sympathetic grief. "I am so sorry…"

"No, it's all right. It wasn't in the cards. I still have Declan, his son; I'm his godmother of sorts. And I might have to take come credit for getting you all here, would you have gone into the wormhole without me?"

"No." He answered simply.

"So maybe I can be Aunt Emily then."

"I think so." He toyed with her hair again for a long moment as the wood popped in the fire. "Just because we're…what did you say, married to our work; that doesn't mean we have to give that work all of our heart does it?"

"What do you mean?

"I mean you are the bravest person I know." She scoffed again. "No, it's true. I've known that from the day I met you. You're very special."

"Not really."

"Yes." He insisted. "And I think you always will be to me."

Emily realized exactly what his body language was saying. "Andrew Capaili, are you falling in love with me?"

"I don't know." Something teasing entered his smile. "Let's discuss this more before we decide." And with that he rolled himself under her again.

* * *

As the cold light of dawn was seeping in the windows Emily awoke to a scratching noise at the door. "What the…" She started to sit up only to have a strong arm push her back down. "Someone's at the door."

"I know." Andrew said a smile in his voice. "Give them a moment to leave." There was more scratching and faint, quickly hushed giggles. After everything had been quiet for a bit Andrew slipped out of bed and padded to the door, peeking out and bringing something inside.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

He came back and curled back into the warm covers, placing the basket in his hands on the nightstand. "Community approval," he said, "at least my community." Inside the basket were warm rolls, a crock of honey butter, some cheese and fruit and hard boiled eggs with a bit of salt in a cup, even a thermos of what was probably coffee. Everything they would need to stay in bed a little longer. "What will it take to get your community to accept us?"

Emily spotted something in the basket. She reached in and pulled out a handful of packets of artificial sweetener, the brand she used. That could only have come from the Earth food cafeteria, and could only have been chosen by one person. "The ones that matter already do."


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter 70**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**outside Thurmond, MD**

**Spencer**

Emily cornered him in the Earth kitchen. She seemed more relaxed somehow, more comfortable in her skin. Earth women were not Sisterian, but apparently there was still some lingering reaction. "Thanks for the Splenda." She said.

He just nodded and pretended not to pay attention. "You're welcome." He said to his copy of the Times.

A moment later a plastic spoon bent the page down the middle. "Did you see the videos of what I had to do when I went after Ian?" Spencer kept his eyes on the page like he was still reading and mostly ignoring her, but he did nod. "If you tell anyone…" He nodded again and the page was slowly released.

He waited until she was back at the coffee counter before he started chuckling.

* * *

"Do you feel safe?"

Spencer knew this day would come eventually. Merina finally had him take his turn up on that table. She'd done it up with flannel sheets and a comfortable pillow, and told him to take off as much as he found comfortable, which today meant his sweater and shoes. Everything else was staying on. And over the past few sessions she'd had him looking at what would make him feel safe when he was also vulnerable. Now he picked up the phone at his side and checked, ample power, four bars, he could call Garcia in a heartbeat if he needed to. "Yes." He replied. Knowing you were safe and feeling safe were two entirely different things. "Now what?"

"Now we talk. If you're concerned you should know that I never touch a male patient who has a partner available." Instead Merina sat on a stool a few feet away. "Now just relax and breathe. In and out…"

* * *

It seemed like almost every day some new thing appeared in their rooms now. A newly made clay jug with wildflowers on the coffee table. A bar of newly minted soap, sweet with lavender, in the bathroom. The plain white muslin curtains in Kira's room suddenly bore a bright, embroidered pattern. Her bedspread was replaced with a soft, colorful quilt, exactly as he once wanted for her. When he had heard of these small rituals he hadn't understood the objective. But when he tried opening his senses like Merina was teaching him to do, the little things became luxuries. "Is she teaching you the same thing?" He asked Kira as she buried her nose in the wildflowers.

"No." She replied. "Girls don't need to be taught." She looked up at him with eyes that seemed brighter. "It happens on its own."

* * *

He was back on the table. This time he decided to trust the process enough to get down to his undershirt. "I really don't understand the point of this." He said.

"The point is to give you a new set of experiences to lean on as your sexual self continues to emerge."

"Continues? It…hasn't…"

"Remember, the most powerful sex organ we have is the mind, not the genitalia. I've seen you out in the world and with Kira and even with Tristan. You're already coming alive. That will be the last thing to wake up, but in a healthy young man it's inevitable."

Huh. "Any way we can speed this along?"

"Always in such a hurry," she chastised gently. "When you try to open your senses, focus on touch and on specific parts of your body. But don't start there; there is no need to rush. In the meantime I'd like you to breathe for me, and then I want you to think of something very frightening."

"Frightening?"

"Yes, it's time to learn to cope with that first rush of fear."

* * *

"You're doing quite well." Mina said as she smeared another round of green goo on Kira's back. "It's loosening nicely. We might be able to get it off a few days early. Must be more minerals in this Earth water."

"I will not complain." Kira murmured.

These evenings were a good time to practice those mindfulness exercises, the green scent of the medicine, the smoke and crackle and heat of the fire, the honeyed richness of the tea, the softness of her skin, of her lips. He had forgotten how tactile he could be, how much he liked to touch. "Careful." She murmured.

"I know." He murmured back. Mustn't touch the green goo. Must restrict yourself to her fingers and her hair and just the edges of her neck. Must take this very slow.

He was really enjoying slow. Slow made it not frightening at all.

* * *

"This isn't working, is it?"

Once again he was lying on his back, staring up at a particularly well made ceiling. He so desperately wanted this to work that he'd willingly stripped down to his undershirt and boxers. Merina had replied with a pleasantly soft quilt so he was still completely covered. "Ahhh." She said quietly. "We're not done yet. When they first touched you, what were you thinking?"

This was the only place where it was safe to be so direct. "Math. Numbers. Codes."

"Why?"

"I was afraid I would react for them."

"Why?"

"That's…natural. Mechanical. I did eventually, every time but not…responsively, if that makes any sense."

"I know they have machines that will force a response regardless of a man's strength."

"Yes, exactly." This was a lot easier to talk about when he was staring at the ceiling and not looking at her.

"But you were able to resist before that. That speaks to an admirable strength of mind, you know. Now there are usually certain thoughts in a man's mind that will stimulate matters, in order for you to do what you did you would have had to absolutely avoid those. Are you still?"

"Um…" Good question. Was he? "…sometimes. Most of the time, probably. I mean…reacting like that isn't exactly appropriate at work or in public or…"

"Very true, but there are some places where such a reaction is quite appropriate. In the privacy of your bedroom, in a bath, here…"

"Here?"

"That's what we're here for, isn't it? You have insured your safety, I have insured that we will not be disturbed, we discussed how to counter a panic reaction and I certainly will not look. I can think of no better time to try." She got up and moved behind the screen, over to where the tea was kept, over where she would not see anything. "I know you've been here when Kira has been treated, you must have seen her getting in and out of the bath in this very room. Open your senses and remember."

Open his senses and remember? Remember the tang of the enzymes in the tub that still filtered through the room. Remember the green scent of the oil and the wood smoke and the lavender soap she used in the shower and there was lavender in this quilt too. Remember the pleasant warmth and quiet sounds and the precise shade of her skin and its softness and how she looked with water running down her curves and it was warm here and just as soft and it was… he groaned very quietly as he felt that distinct twitch, that slow build. "I… I think I'm going to continue this exercise on my own." Before he got so bad that he couldn't walk across the village.

"As you wish." He could almost hear the smile in her voice. "Just remember, open your senses and take your time."

 


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter 72**   
**Catoctin Shaker Village**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**outside Thurmond, MD**

**Spencer**

Spencer all but ran to his room, which was a little musty, a little cold, not nearly as pleasant as the therapy room. He locked the door behind him, put his phone and revolver on the nightstand, cracked the window to let in fresh air and the sounds of the village and the warmth of the sun and stretched out on his bed.

And then he didn't do anything.

Sure, he laid there and thought about Kira, how she looked when she came out of the bath, how soft her skin was, how she moved when she was working with Birger, how she smelled, like sun and herbs and lavender soap. And with the other part of his brain he focused on his breathing and opening his senses, to the sun and the smell of autumn outside and the feel of the soft blankets under him. And after a moment he started to twitch and something grew heavy and he slowly grew as hard as he used to get right after that time in the pool with Lila. For a moment he was terrified that it was going to hurt  _any second now_. But he breathed and breathed and after a bit the fear started ebbing away.

And then he didn't do anything.

He knew what he should be doing. He knew what he was expected to do. But he didn't. He lay there until it went away again, as it would in the natural course of things.

He and Kira had gone through so much together. It only seemed right to do this together too.

* * *

Later that evening Spencer was very glad of the choice he had made.

Granted the pressure had been building ever since that afternoon. But it only made him want to focus more on Kira, on being there for her. He was beginning to understand just how the biology pushed the psychology here. But even without this pressure he intended to focus on her tonight.

After two weeks of enzymatic debridement it was time for the mechanical treatment.

After soaking in the tub of 'tea' one last time she got out, rinsed off, and dried herself enough to don the length of cloth they called underwear. Then she straddled a chair, holding a towel for modesty and to cover and protect the wood. He sat in front where he could hold her hand and watch her eyes as Mina stepped up behind her and placed the bowl of salt and oil, tinted bright blue with some essential oil from home, and went to work.

After a few moments he could tell from the small sounds she was making and the way she bit her lip that she was enduring rather than enjoying this. "Okay?" He asked.

"Burns." She replied. "Uhh, I'll be glad when it's over."

"Well it's coming off nicely." Mina said. "Doesn't look like you'll have any lingering bits to slow you down." She grinned like that was somehow naughty.

Now he was curious. "Slow you down?"

" _You_  down." She managed a smile through her discomfort. "You'll see."

He was also curious enough to take a peek at what Mina was doing. By then all he could see was a layer of thick, white froth. "You don't really want to look at this part." Mina told him, still cheerful no matter what. "She'll be so pretty once it's all healed."

"She's pretty now." He replied with a smile as he sat back in his chair.

"Just….uhhh…wait." Kira replied. Ah, but she was smiling too.

When Mina declared herself done they went back to the shower to wash off. As soon as Mina went to work with the soap Kira yelped. "What?" He asked.

"It stings!" Kira exclaimed.

"It does." Mina said. From what little Spencer could see she was working quickly. "But it has to be clean or it will go foul. It'll all be over very soon."

It was, thankfully. Kira dried off again and then returned to the table. Her back was bright cherry red from the scrubbing and the spots looked nearly raw. "It looks as bad as when it first happened." She wasn't running blood this time but it was seeping out in places, the edges looking shredded again.

"Very close." Mina said. "But this time she'll heal clean."

All of her spots were torn except for the ones right up between her shoulder blades. Without thinking he put his hand just over those, just like he had before, and felt her lean into his arm and sigh. "It's all going to be good again." She murmured.

"Oh?"

"That was the worst of it."

"Good to know."

Mina cleared her throat. It might have had something to do with the dampness in her eyes. "I hope you're having someone look after your hands, Doctor."

He really didn't want to pull away. "I have been." He'd been going down to Ft. Detrick for physical therapy twice a week. Reluctantly he moved just far enough to let Mina start rubbing some warm herbal salve into Kira's back. Within moments the girl he loved was almost purring. "Better?"

"Much. It's even stopped itching."

"Good." She'd been complaining about itching for the past few days, but couldn't scratch.

Once the salve coated Kira's back Mina laid a bandage over. "From now on you won't have to sit here as long." She told them. "Just clean it and reapply until you're healed."

"Awww," Kira said, even as he turned and she moved to dress. "I kinda like the quiet time."

This was an opening he'd been waiting for. "Then let's go back to the apartment." He said. "I'll…read out loud or we can play…." She gave him a look that renewed the pressure he'd dealt with earlier. "Not like that."

"Mmm, good. I'm really not ready."

All of a sudden that was almost a problem. "But you're healing, even I know that." He said as they headed down stairs. "Do you think…?" Will you want to? With me?

The kiss she gave him at the bottom of the stairs answered every question.


	73. Chapter 73

**Chapter 73**   
**Catoctin Mountain National Park**   
**outside Thurmond, MD**

**Spencer**

By now the outbuildings were finally getting to done. The various workshops were up and running and the Sisterians were putting their collective life back together. This was immense fodder for the various researchers who were coming to the compound, nothing like watching an alien spin yarn or throw pots or train horses to give a dozen academic disciplines something to do.

The problem was the dammed biologists. "Go away." Spencer told them.

"Come on!" One of the two following him begged. "You're the only one who knows anything; they're refusing to talk to us!"

"You know, maybe there's a reason." Spencer replied. "They're mammals, clearly descended from some sort of primate. Draw your own conclusions."

"Not good enough!" They cornered him behind the cooper's shop. "Reid, the five known families they've formed may well not bear any more children, they've said that. The rest have all taken vows of celibacy or something. You're the only one who's ever observed their mating patterns. You have to tell us something."

Spencer smiled. The Sisterians were very good at keeping their collective reproductive lives secret. It would not surprise him if no one realized that pregnancies were underway until the babies were miraculously born. "No, I don't."

"Please!"

"No." Spencer pushed past them and headed for the barn. There he found Tristan, saddled and waiting, and Kira on a very impatient Birger. "Did you get it?"

"Yes, and I don't think anyone saw me other than Hildi."

"What did she say?"

"Have fun."

"Good." He mounted his horse and they headed out on the trail.

An hour later they were shaking a blanket out by a stream. The autumn woods were blazing in all their glory, there was no one for miles, and last night had been Kira's last medical treatment. She knelt down and started unpacking their picnic. "How do you feel?" She asked.

In response he pulled the satellite phone from his bag. Four glorious bars of signal, very much unlike the last time they were alone in the woods. "Comfortable. Do you have yours?"

"Um no," she said as she dug through her pack. "I must have left it back in my room. What I don't understand is what this is for." She indicated the silver and red bracelet he'd put on her just this morning.

"If you're ever off the compound and something happens the Guardians who find you will know to call back here and find out the best way to help you. And the Guardians here will know you're in trouble and come for you." He stretched out on the blanket. "What I don't understand is why no one else is wearing them."

"They're not planning to go anywhere. We normally didn't you know, outside of the seasonal market down in Trondlhim people only left on missionary trips, and we're nowhere near settled enough for any of those."

"But you're wearing yours."

She grinned. "I have a planet to explore. You told me so much about your home planet, now I'm curious."

Well, all right then. "We might have to do something about that soon."

"Good. I'll be right back." She stepped off into the bushes a bit.

Spencer closed his eyes against the sun and smiled. He had a week of his leave left, everyone was settling in, Kitta was enjoying school, Kira was healthy in body and healing well in mind, and he was doing much better. While he still had some issues his could eat anything that wasn't breaded, even meat, and body had begun reacting normally, even to the extent of making a mess on the sheets overnight twice so far. As embarrassing as it was, it felt good to be normal. He still had therapy weekly, both for his hand and for his head, but the improvement was clear and life was good.

He heard Kira step back out of the bushes. "Do you remember asking me about other Abbey songs once?"

"Yes." He replied. They had been in captivity, and she'd been too shy to share, instead sharing lullabies and sweet mountain airs.

_Hear my cry,_   
_In my hungering search for you,_   
_Taste my breath on the wind,_   
_See the sky as it mirrors my colors,_   
_Hints and whispers begin._

_Every finger is touching and searching,_   
_Until your secrets come out,_   
_In the dance, as it endlessly circles,_   
_I linger close to your mouth._

_I am living to nourish you, cherish you,_   
_I am pulsing the blood in your veins,_   
_Feel the magic and power of surrender,_   
_To life._

When she started singing he turned to look at her. She still had that angelic soprano. And now, hearing it, seeing her standing there leaning against a tree in the soft Indian summer light, he couldn't help but react. He'd fallen in love with her bravery when she risked everything to protect her brother and her people, he'd fallen in love with her mind during those days of captivity, he'd fallen in love with her spirit when she faced a new world with such openness and wonder, and somewhere in all of that he'd fallen in love with her heart. And now, when she came and knelt beside him and lowered herself into his arms he fell in love with her body at last.

It wasn't that he hadn't kissed her before, or that he hadn't had her in his arms before, but there was a difference now, a heat, an urgency that was new. She kissed him, tasted him, and nipped at his chin before returning to his lips. All the while her hands ran over his torso, tracing the muscles that had finally started to form there. He took that as invitation, gently tracing her curves, and she did have them now, before reaching up and under the kerchief she wore to trace the uppermost membrane there with the lightest of touches. He was rewarded with her gasp against his lips, and then a moan as he explored further. He caressed her there as he kissed her, savoring the small sounds she made.

Somehow in all of this he rolled almost on top of her. He felt her arch her back into his caressing fingers, causing her to find the hardness growing between his legs. She gasped and pulled back. "It's all right." He said.

"I know. You won't hurt me." She said, leaning in for another kiss even as she held her lower body away. "I don't want to hurt you."

He shook his head before claiming another kiss. "Earthlings bounce, remember?"

In reply she pushed him over, rolling almost on top of him, threading her thigh between his and slowly rocking against him. He groaned from the pressure and instinctively thrust against her, seeking more. "Please." He murmured. Let it be now, be ready, please.

"Not yet." She said between kisses. "But…" He groaned as she reached down to cup him.

That was when he heard the helicopter.

He smiled a little at the thought of the President spotting him making out with an alien in what was in many ways his backyard. Ah, but the tree cover probably hid their activities well enough. He didn't stop her, rather he rolled his hips up into her hand, a little unnerved by the sensation of  _someone else_  touching him, but he could see her eyes, their crystal blue radiant in the sun and it was  _her_  and she knew and she'd never harm him.

The helicopter was getting closer.

"What is that?" She asked.

"Nothing," he said. "It's not for us." It was one of the odd quirks of Sisterian biology, breasts, while sensitive, were considered less intimate than backs. This was why he felt daring enough to reach up and cup hers through her clothing, letting her feel the warmth of his hand. Her moan told him he was on the right track.

That helo was getting too close.

"Don't." She said as he moved away.

"Let me go see what that is." He said. "Stay here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cloudsong"  
> Music and lyrics by Bill Whelan  
> Performed by Anúna  
> Soloist is Katie McMahon
> 
> No copyright infringement intended, used without permission and not for profit  
> http://youtu.be/Y8VCx3KZxo8


	74. Chapter 74

**Chapter 74**  
Catoctin Mountain National Park  
outside Thurmond, MD

**Kira**

Kira held the horses as that strange beating sound grew nearer and Spencer went off into the woods to investigate. When it didn't abate and he didn't return and the horses did not appear to be bothered she went after him. Not far away the woods opened up into a meadow, something quite like the woods and meadows back on Litla Deirfiúr. She reached this one just as a strange-looking flyer lifted off the ground and sped away.

A flyer

A flyer leaving a meadow

A flyer taking Spencer and leaving a meadow

For a moment she simply couldn't breathe. She heard this strange, keening sound, some creature in the woods perhaps? A frog or maybe a bird?

No, it was her. It was coming from her throat.

"Mac soith! Tú svina! Skrímsli!" She shrieked curses all the way back to the horses. Leaving the picnic for the scavengers she mounted Birger and taking Tristan's reins led him back to the compound.

* * *

As anyone could have predicted everyone was in a froth over the flyer that had passed overhead. Just as predictably Kitta was the first to find her in the round barn. "Kira! Kira! A flyer! Did you see the flyer?"

"I did see the flyer." Kira replied as calmly as she could manage. She was in the middle of giving Birger extra special care tonight, just in case.

"No one was taken though, it didn't land anywhere." Kitta looked around and then looked into Tristan's stall. "Where's Spencer?"

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. "Kitta…."

It didn't take much for the little girl to add things together. "Where's my Poppa? They took my Poppa!" She screeched, disturbing the animals and setting herself to tears.

"No no. Shhh. Come here." Kira pulled the little one into her arms. "It's all right, he's very strong and very brave; he'll be fine."

"They took my Poppa! They took my Poppa! Now he's never coming home!" Kitta cried, beating on Kira with sharp little fists as she tried to hold her.

"No, no. He's coming home. He came home the last time, he'll come home again."

Kitta pushed her away, "Last time?"

Oh hell. Kira nodded. "We were both taken once before." Kitta started keening in her distress. "No, sweetheart, look. I'm fine. He's been fine. And he will be when I get him back, you'll see."

"Get him back?" Kitta asked.

Kira nodded. "The last time Andrew and Emily and Reka came after us. This time I'm going after him."  
Clearly they had not been given the whole story about this world. Well if they thought she was not going to go after him they had another think coming. He was…she was…well. "I'll be leaving at first light. It's too late to go now."

"Are you going alone?"

"I don't know yet. But you'll be staying here; Andrew will be looking after you."

"He should go with you! He's strong and he's big!"

"Yes, but he's a Healer, sweetheart. They don't go out on things like this. They're too precious to risk."

"He went after you!"

"He's my brother." And now she was leaving him to go who knew where. But she had to, she just…. "It'll be all right sweetheart, this will be fixed."

She felt little arms go around her thigh, "Momma."

"Your Momma and Poppa are in Fólkvangar, remember."

Kitta nodded against her leg. "You're my Momma now."

Oh boy.

* * *

Later, after a supper where everyone smiled for the scientists but the undercurrent of worry could have powered their machines Kira put Kitta to bed. "You have to come back Momma. You have to promise."

"I promise." Kira said, smoothing out the covers.

"And no ropes in the barn when you do."

"I didn't last time. Now I have a lot more reasons not to."

"What is that buzzing?"

"I don't know; probably the insects outside. Uncle Andrew is going to sleep in the sitting room until I get back, all right. You won't be alone, no matter what." She pressed a kiss to the little girl's forehead. "Now go to sleep."

* * *

Back in the sitting room there was a quiet, tense meeting going on. "You shouldn't go out alone." Reka said.

"I won't take anyone else." Kira replied. "You can't afford to lose the…the breeding stock."

"I'll go."

"Sorry Captain, they'd notice you were missing. With the time I've been spending on Birger they might not notice us gone for a day or so." She sat on the floor and went back to assembling her pack.

"Do you even know the way?" Merina asked.

"I'm going to go nose about in the morning, see if I can get one of them to tell me where's a good place to start looking, maybe get a map."

"You should find Emily." Andrew told her.

Kira bristled. "Why? How do you know…"

"I'd trust her with my life." He interrupted. "I'd trust her with yours."

"So would I." Reka said. "It's a better plan. What is that buzzing?"

"Insects," Kira nodded, all right then. "She left, what, ten days ago? Where did she go?"

"Their village. Quan-ti-co."

"At least we have a name to start with."

Merina gently touched Kira's shoulder. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

"I'm fine!"

"That close, hm?"

Kira felt her cheeks burning. "I have to finish packing. If I can I'll let you know the plan before I go."

The two women took their leave. Kira kept packing while her brother just looked at her. "What?" She said at last.

"I'm just thinking we've done everything together, from sharing our mother's body until the day you were taken." He sighed. "Ever since…"

"I know." Kira looked up at him, fear for herself mingling in her eyes with fear for her…her…"I have to do this, Andrew. I have to, I'm sorry."

"I know." He pulled her into a hug. "I know."

* * *

The next morning after breakfast Kira idly went to the research center to poke around the library. Someone she hadn't seen before came over. "Hi. Are you new too?" Kira nodded. "Amazing isn't it? It's my first day."

"Very. Is there a map around here?"

"That's what Google is for. Where are you trying to find?"

"Quan-ti-co."

"Oh, um…." He pulled up something on one of those computers. "Are you driving?" She looked at him blankly. "No car yet?" She shook her head. "You can take the train. Probably the easiest way, train service is great in this part of the country."

Train, she could do train. "How far is it?"

"Um, it looks like about three hours. You have to transfer through Union Station in DC."

Kira didn't have a clue. But, three hours? She could go find Emily, bring her back here, and take it from there. Excellent plan. "How do I get to the station?"

"Um, I'm being sent on a supply run, we're out of coffee. I can take you."

Right. This might be her best bet, she didn't want to leave Birger tied outside of a station and there might not be a stable. "Let me go get my pack?"

"Sure. Meet you in the parking lot in fifteen."

Andrew was waiting for her. She briefed him on the plan on the way back to the residence. "Do you think you can trust him? What is that buzzing?"

"I don't know, insects. He's too simple to be lying. I'll go get Emily, I'll bring her back here, and we can figure it out from there. I should be back by supper."

"All right."

"Look after Kitta and Birger for me?"

"Of course."

Kira stopped and looked up at her mountain of a brother. Even with this simple plan she was afraid, it could all fall apart. And there was no way to hide it from him, he knew her too well. "If anything happens…"

"It won't." He managed a smile. "There are too many people here; the Dark God has ample distractions."

"But if…name one of those beautiful babies for me." She gave him the biggest hug she could and then ran down to where they kept the cars.

Moments later she was off to the station.

 


	75. Chapter 75

**Chapter 75**   
**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**Penelope**

Penelope sighed as she shut down the latest case.

There are some truths in life. Fifteen year old girls are fifteen year old girls. Sixteen year old boys are sixteen year old boys. When fifteen year old girls fall in love for the first time with sixteen year old boys, they fall hard and fast and good judgment tends to go out the window. So when the parents of the fifteen year old girl tells her that she cannot see the sixteen year old boy anymore, running off together sounds like the only possible solution.

If you're lucky, like this girl was, the boy will be one of the good ones and nothing will happen, or at least nothing that you didn't want to happen. When your parents find you sitting in a McDonald's the next day they will be furious and ground you for life but you'll be walking and talking and able to argue with them for hours on end. They will read you the riot act and ground you for the next century or so, but maybe in the next six months they will realize your love is true and good, even if your judgment could use some work and they might let that boy, if he's still around, come over for supper.

Unless your father happens to be the President of the United States, in which case all of the above will happen except sometime between the Riot Act and the Grounding you will be getting the Riot Act from the Director of the Secret Service, the Director of the FBI, the Director of Homeland Security, and probably a half-dozen other Very Serious People in Suits. Poor fifteen year old.

Someone tapped on her door. "Come." She commanded. She was tired, admittedly. They had worked around the clock on this one.

Kevin stuck his head in the door. "Where's the team?" He asked.

"Still at the command center, why?"

"There's someone here for Prentiss." He said. "I didn't know she was in to cosplay."

"Cosplay?" Emily?

"Yeah." Kevin nodded toward the bullpen, and she followed.

The woman sitting at the break table was notably tall. She wore knee-high black lace up boots over black riding pants on seriously long legs, a black shirt, and a red, embroidered scarf around her neck. Her red and black leather vest was practically a work of art, tooled in some swirling design and ornamented with intricate silver buttons. And she wore a brimmed leather hat to boot. But all of it seemed  _dusty_ somehow, used. She had worn spots on her vest and a lot more on her boots and her heels were run down, like they were her everyday wear, not a costume. She wore short curls over a face that seemed somehow a little off; not at all unattractive, but if you looked closely the lines and angles were just a little unusual. All of a sudden Penelope knew exactly who this was. More importantly she knew exactly  _what_  this was. And all of a sudden she was having trouble breathing.

But she mustered her courage and stepped forward, "Um, hi. Are you…are you K..Kira?" The woman nodded. "I'm…I'm Penelope…Garcia. Are you…are you looking for Emily or…Spencer?"

The woman brightened and smiled. "Both. Are they here?"

"Not…not at the moment but I can…call them. Have them come back."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you."

Penelope practically scurried back to her lair, Kevin right behind. "Sweetie, what is going on?" Kevin asked, suddenly concerned.

Penelope waved him off while she called …. "Morgan?"

"Hey my goddess, what's up?"

"There is an alien in the bullpen!"

* * *

**Spencer**

"Do you think she's going to be that upset?" Spencer asked in the elevator.

"Well, let's see." Rossi replied. "You ran out in the middle of a make-out session, left in a way that probably triggered a flashback, more than likely frightened the entire colony and haven't contacted her since to tell her that you're okay. Let's just say I'm glad I'm not you."

"I've been trying to call her!" Spencer insisted.

"Did you show her how to use the phone?" Emily asked.

"No, but if it was ringing…"

"Did you make sure it wasn't on vibrate?"

Silence

"Yep," Morgan nodded. "We're glad we're not you."

The elevator doors opened and sure enough there was Kira. Spencer took a deep breath and went over to her. "I'm sorry." He said.

Relief warred with anger in her eyes. "I was so scared for you!" She said in Sisterian. "I thought they had all lied to us! I didn't know what they were going to do to you!"

"A child was missing, they needed my help, they wouldn't let me come back to tell you." He explained. "I tried to call and tell you…"

She shook her head. "I don't understand!"

"I'll show you when we get back."

"Everyone was so afraid! Kitta was crying, her mother died when she got back! She thought you would never come home!" She stepped close enough to throw a sharp, little punch at his shoulder, close enough to catch her up in his arm, and he realized she was shaking.

"I'm sorry." But now he couldn't help it, he was smiling, just a little.

She noticed. "What?"

"When we were being confronted by the flyers I kept thinking I wanted to snap my fingers and bring you here. It's the safest place in, well, the universe I guess. But I never explained that and I'm sorry."

She backed off a little. "I realized that, some kind of citadel for Guardians isn't it."

"Something like that."

"Well I don't care; you don't just go off and leave your Guardian like that!"

Wait. "My Guardian?"

She blushed, a color he hadn't seen since they were in captivity. "Andrew really doesn't…and Emily…you know, I've wanted to say that since I first met you and you said you couldn't find your team."

Oh hell. All of a sudden he simply had to. "I accept." He said as he leaned in and kissed her.

That kiss deepened in a way he didn't quite expect. He leaned back in time to see her eyes briefly dilate. "Good." She whispered. "I came here on the train…there was so much…."

All of a sudden it clicked. "Are you saying you want to go back and make this official?" She nodded. Right. He switched to English. "Morgan, how many times have I done your paperwork?" He called out.

Morgan stuck his head around the door again. "I don't know."

"Okay, you owe me. I'm going to finish my leave; I'll be back on Monday." Before anyone had a chance to say anything more he pulled Kira into the elevator.

* * *

 **Catoctin Shaker Village**  
Catoctin Mountain National Park  
outside Thurmond, MD

First they had to explain to everyone that he was all right. Then they had to explain to the guards that this needed to be a no-fly zone, including helicopters, and that a landing zone a little ways down the mountain was a good idea. Then they had to reassure a very little girl and get her into bed.

By the time they did all that Kira was shaking so hard it was nearly visible. She tugged him into the privacy of her bedroom and into her arms. "Please." She whispered against his lips. "Please."

It was kissing then, over and again, catching the taste of her, the sudden scent of her arousal, heady and rich on the air. She started unbuttoning his shirt and as the cool air touched his skin he realized that he was so hard it ached and he wasn't at all afraid. "Yes." He said to her then. He reached up and lightly traced the membrane under her scarf. "Yes."

And everything was as wonderful as he'd ever dreamed.

* * *

The next morning Spencer woke to the sound of whispers and giggles in the sitting room. "What is that?"

He felt Kira's grin against his bare shoulder as she draped an arm over his chest. "Wait, let them finish."

When it was silent again he rolled out of bed, found pants, and stepped out to see what was going on. Sitting on the counter, next to his coffee pot which was full and hot, was a large basket. There were the traditional hot rolls, honeyed butter, soft cheese and fruit, but there were also other items along with a note.

_Spencer_

_The champagne is from Rossi. He said it's traditional._   
_The yoghurt is from Hotch. He said you should have something healthy._   
_The doughnuts are from Morgan, who said you should have something you'd really eat._   
_The wedding cupcakes were made by Garcia and decorated by her and JJ and Henry._   
_And I made sure you had enough sugar for your coffee._

_Congratulations._

_Emily_

He looked at the five pound bag of sugar sitting there, and then back through the doorway at the beautiful creature sprawled over the bed, and met those eyes that were so very, very alive. "I guess they want us to stay in bed a little longer." He said

And then he brought her breakfast.


	76. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love is my religion - I could die for it.  
> John Keats

**Epilogue**   
**Georgetown University**   
**Washington DC**   
**10 years later**

**Prof. Kelso**

"Sociology and Personal Relations" was one of the more interesting electives for incoming students in the psychology program. It was a small seminar, maybe 30 students, and they had spent most of the term discussing their similarities and differences without discussing geography. Even though Prof. Kelso knew that the vast majority of his students came from white bread American suburbs there were always enough students from other countries to make things lively. "All right, up until today we've talked about common experiences across cultures. We've talked about how our families relate to each other and to our home communities. How they feel about things like education, money, food, love, children, elder care. We've discussed it all. But through all of it we have not discussed where any of us are actually from in order to prevent preconceived notions from clouding our understanding. Today we're taking what we've learned so far and incorporating place, each of us is going to come up and tell the class where we're from and then the class will have the chance to ask questions. Now before you think that we're all the same there are over 2,000 individuals at Georgetown from 130 different countries not counting the US." Time to drop the bombshell. "And I've been told that this year we have our first ever alien being, a student from another planet."

The class murmured. Mike, the obnoxious one in the class raised his hand, "Seriously?"

"Yes Mr. Patterson, I am completely serious. Surely you remember, about 10 years ago, they had that big write up in the Times, Oprah interviewed some of them, they had that exhibition of alien artifacts at the Smithsonian, those big mock-ups of those little fighter things. Well we have one of them walking around on our campus right now. Who knows, you might have even met him or her and didn't even know it." The class murmured again. "All right, so today we're looking at diversity." He pulled down the maps he had at the back of the room, one of the US and one of the world. "I want each of you to come up here, put a sticker on where you're from, say your name and your home and then say Ask Me Anything."

As he had expected most of the students gravitated to the US map. They had the usual smattering from the Asian countries and India, two from Canada, one from France, and one from Sierra Leone who was interesting. But then the last student came slowly down the aisle. He went over the notes he had on this one, non-traditional student, older than most, intelligent, diligent, had spoken of things that made him sound like a native of a former Soviet state perhaps.

As Prof. Kelso watched the student took one of the stickers and studied the maps. Then he slowly walked to the back of the room, climbed onto a bookcase, and placed the sticker high on the wall in the corner before returning to the front of the room. "My name is Andrew Capaill and I'm from a planet you call KOI-172.02 and we call Litla Deirfiúr. Ask me anything."

* * *

**Andrew**

"Okay, so we couldn't ask the important questions in there." Mike said as they left the room. Not unsurprisingly Andrew found himself trailing not only his friends but also a few fascinated others. Well, it had to come out sometime and he'd already had a term to establish himself. "Have you ever had sex with an earth woman?"

Andrew laughed at the groans and the punches some of the other threw at Mike's shoulders. "There is no way a gentleman would answer that."

"Okay, have any of your people had sex with earth people?" Mike was insistent. "And if so have they made little Spocks?"

"I heard they had." Kelly, one of the other students said.

"Yeah, but I heard that was a hoax." Samantha told her.

"It was at the time but it has since been proven true." Andrew admitted. Then he heard familiar voices and fast footsteps. "And here comes the proof!" He called out as two little forms ran up and threw themselves at him. He swept them up into his arms as they laughed. "This is my niece Geira and my nephew Daniel and their father is from Earth. They're five. I have an older niece as well, but she's adopted from home. She's in high school still."

They all blinked at the two giggling children. "Dude. Who…" Mike swallowed. "What do their parents do?"

"My sister is studying to be a veterinarian; she tends the horses at our colony. Her husband…" He smiled at the familiar face walking up. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

They turned and looked and blinked. "Dr. Reid?"

Spencer smiled.

 


End file.
